Saints
by VampiresAndLiars
Summary: Belle thought everything was fine, but she was wrong. She fled New Orleans with her infant son and didn't look back. But, nearly a year later, she's forced to return and is faced with the repercussions. All Belle wants is to go back, but she soon realizes that it's not that simple. Evil suddenly seems to look saintly. (sequel to "Sinners")
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. - Surprise, there's a sequel! Before reading this, be sure to read "Sinners" if you haven't already. I've decided to pick up right where we left off. I'm not sure if anyone was expecting or wanted a sequel, but I just felt like there was so much more for me to tell with these characters. Hopefully you all agree. Please review and enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Originals (unfortunately), but I do own my OCs and the plot of this story.**

* * *

Song: Passenger, The Once, & Stu Larsen – _Hard To Say I'm Sorry_ (cover)

Belle stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance above her. She had been like this for over an hour – lying in bed, listening to the steady rhythm of Klaus' breathing as he slept beside her. Her mind reeled relentlessly, uncontrollably.

The diamond ring on her finger had, at first, been a blessing. It had felt like it was made just for her – which it was, but it just felt like...fate. Like she was meant to wear it. Like she was meant to be his – forever.

But now, mere hours after one simple word had all but sealed her fate, the ring felt awkward and heavy. Something just didn't feel right. She knew it should, but it just didn't. There was an ache in her heart that wouldn't subside and a voice in her head that muttered things she couldn't understand. Maybe the ring wasn't a blessing; maybe it was a curse.

She had pictured this moment a million times in her head over the years: the moment when she would be his and he would be hers. She had spent hours upon hours thinking about how it would feel. And the massive ball of anxiety she felt in her chest sure as hell wasn't what she had had in mind.

Everything started to feel wrong when just hours before it had felt so right, so perfect. Had she made a mistake?

Were the walls closing in? She could've sworn they were. And the room was hot, too hot. And she couldn't breathe. Was the air thinning? The room started to spin like the blades of a helicopter.

Blade. Was he crying? She couldn't tell. The ringing in her ears was too loud and the voice of her subconscious wouldn't shut the hell up.

Eyes starting to blur, senses starting to dull, she crawled out of bed, trying her best to be absolutely silent, and blindly grabbed for her clothes in the pitch black. She dressed quickly and stumbled out of the room, trying to regain her balance. Her head was foggy, like she was in a dream, but her pounding heart served as a reminder that it was, in fact, very real. She tried to take deep breaths to ease her anxiety, but the panic attack was already in full-swing, a nearly unstoppable force of her subconscious.

By the time she reached Blade's room she was in tears. She sunk down to the floor, back against the wall that faced his crib. Blade was sound asleep. She closed the door with one hand, keeping the other clamped tightly over her mouth to muffle her cries. She didn't want to disturb anyone, especially Blade. He was so young; he didn't deserve to see her in pain.

Eventually the anxiety subsided and her thoughts were clearer. So, she devised a quick plan. Maybe she just needed to get out, go for a drive to sort everything out and clear her head. So, she packed up a quick diaper bag for Blade, who was starting to stir. She didn't want to leave him,

He looked up at her with his big brown eyes and rolled over onto his side, grasping at the bars of the crib with his tiny hands. He smiled up at Belle and pulled himself up with the bars, reaching out to her. She put the bag on her shoulder and lifted him up, holding him on her hip.

"We're gonna go for a drive, baby. Okay?" She kept her voice low, not wanting anyone else to hear. As far as she could tell everyone else in the house was asleep, but, just in case they weren't, she didn't want to attract any attention. She popped a pacifier in Blade's mouth to keep him quiet.

There was one last thing she had to do.

Belle quietly snuck back into Klaus' room – their room, and left a note on the nightstand where he could find it when he woke up, knowing that he would worry.

She grabbed the keys to her Range Rover from the top of the dresser and headed downstairs, trying to stifle another anxiety attack. Hastily, she pulled on a pair of boots by the back door before slipping outside and walking quickly to her SUV that was parked out front, not realizing that they weren't her shoes until she had already closed the door; they were at least two sizes too big – probably Hayley's. And the shirt she wore wasn't hers either: it was one of Klaus' henleys.

Once she unlocked the car she buckled Blade into his carseat. He had his little dimpled fist in her hair, holding onto his mother's ebony curls like his life depended on it. He knew something was wrong, she could see it in his face. The way his eyebrows knit together. The way his eyes narrowed. It was such a peculiar expression for an infant; it was all Klaus. _He_ was all Klaus.

When Belle forced him to release his surpassingly tight grasp he started to whine, attempting to protest, but all he could manage was a high-pitched wail. His mouth hung open, like he was trying to speak, as he watched her with great intensity.

She leaned in, running her fingers over his tight blonde curls to soothe him. The diamond on her ring glinted in the moonlight like a star, catching her eye before becoming hidden in Blade's hair. "It's okay, baby boy. We're just going for a drive. Alright?" He didn't seem entirely appeased, but he calmed down. After planting a quick, comforting kiss on his forehead, she closed the door, opened her own, and got in the driver's seat, quietly closing the door behind her.

She put the key in the ignition, turned it, and put the car in drive, but she didn't take her foot off the brake. She put both of her hands on the wheel, gripping it so tightly now that her knuckles turned white.

Her eyes were fixed on the ring, now overcast by a shadow. The diamond was no longer shining. In the darkness it appeared to be nothing more than a dull rock. She couldn't bear to look at it anymore – it made her feel sick. Hands shaking, she pulled ring off her finger and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. "I'll put it back on later," she whispered to herself. "Later. After my drive." The doubt in her voice was blatant evidence of her uncertainty. She tried to ignore it. She had to believe her words. She needed to convince herself that this was just a drive. That she would put the ring back on.

After taking a deep breath and glancing up at the darkened window of Klaus' room, she was ready.

As she headed off into the night, outside the city's limits, she didn't realize how long it would be until she would see New Orleans again. Until she would see Klaus again.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. – Thank you to everyone who's followed and/or reviewed so far :) I'm so excited for this story! Hopefully you guys are, too. Please review and enjoy.**

* * *

Song: Twenty One Pilots – _Doubt_

" _Welcome to New Orleans_ " the sign read. The bold white letters were prominent in the darkness, drawing her gaze as she entered the city's limits.

Blade was sitting in the back seat, strapped into his carseat and wide awake. Belle glanced at him from her rear-view mirror; the street lights shined on his golden curls, which were now long enough to hang down just above his eyes. She refused to cut his hair. "D'ere yet?" he asked.

She smirked, feeling the excitement radiating from him like the sun's rays. He was often a very happy child, and tonight was no exception. He knew what was happening, why they were going to New Orleans: he was going to see his father. After eleven long months, they would reunite. Belle hadn't dared to to let Blade forget about him. About any of them. She couldn't do that to her son – take his family from him. What she had done was, admittedly, selfish, but she wasn't cruel. At least, she hadn't meant to be.

Her heart pounded heavily with the weight of growing anxiety. How would Klaus react? No doubt, with an insurmountable amount of rage and violence. She swallowed hard. He wouldn't hurt her, would he? She scoffed at the notion. Niklaus Mikaelson was no fool. He wouldn't spare her his wrath, especially since she was so deserving of it.

Now, whether he would kill her was up for debate. She hoped he wouldn't want to take away his only son's mother. But then again, hadn't she tried to do the same: take away Blade's father?

"Momma," Blade whined, pulling Belle from her thoughts.

"We'll be there soon, baby. Don't worry," she assured him. She had decided to face Klaus first, getting the worst part out of the way. She was going to drop Blade off at Marcel and Audrey's apartment; she had a few informants around to give her any important details involving either her family or the Mikaelsons, like how Audrey and Marcel had gotten together after he and Rebekah had, as Belle had expected, broken up.

Her family, as she had been told, was scattered. Colton had skipped town a few months prior and was living in L.A.; Claudia had left the country almost immediately after Blade's birthday – she was rumored to be in London; Cal was living in a town in Georgia by the Gulf. Belle hadn't expected to leave a domino effect in her wake, sending most of her family from the Quarter.

The Mikaelsons, however, remained in the Compound, as expected. Hayley and Elijah were engaged to be married; although she wouldn't fully admit it, Belle was jealous. Absurdly jealous. She had convinced herself that Elijah had only proposed to spite his brother, though her more rational side knew that wasn't the case. Elijah loved Hayley, the same way Klaus had once loved her.

Belle was sure any love Klaus had once had for her had turned to venom in her absence.

When she arrived at Marcel's apartment on the outskirts of the French Quarter, she parked and got out; she unbuckled Blade from his carseat and grabbed a small gray bag filled with his essentials from the back.

As she headed toward the front steps, walking much slower than she normally would, she told him what was about to happen. "Listen, Blade, momma has to go talk to daddy for a little bit, so I'm leaving you with Aunt Audrey and Marcel for a little bit okay? I promise I'll be back as soon as I can." She stopped at the top if the stairs, looking into his dark eyes.

Blade's lips pursed and his brow furrowed: he was deeply displeased. "No," he said, far more sternly than any toddler should speak.

"I'm sorry, baby. I have to do this first, okay? You'll see daddy later. I promise." She put her hand gently over his, which clung tightly to one of the lapels on her black leather jacket. She swept the hair out of his eyes, revealing the little crease between his knit brows; she kissed it softly, trying to ease his worry. She hated to see him like this; she hated how quickly his happiness had disappeared. But this was necessary.

Instead of replying, Blade put his head on her shoulder, burying his face into her. She wasn't sure what upset him more: not seeing his father or parting with her.

She planted a quick kiss on the top of his head before ringing the doorbell with her free hand.

Marcel came to answer the door, looking far less surprised to see her on his doorstep than she had initially thought. "Well, well, well, look who finally decided to come home."

"Babe, who is it?" Belle heard Audrey call. She came into view moments later, looking more pissed off than ever, to put it plainly. She crossed her arms firmly over her chest, chocolate eyes locked on Belle's sky blues. "What the hell are you doing back here?"

The anger in her voice pricked Belle like a dagger. She visibly flinched. "I need you to watch Blade for a little while."

"Why," Audrey snapped, "You gonna leave him too?"

"Look," she sighed, "I know what I did was wrong and stupid."

"And selfish and unjust and unforgivable," Audrey interjected.

"I know, okay?" she snapped. She paused, taking a breath to steady herself. "But you aren't the first person I need to apologize to. So, like I said, I need you two to keep an eye on Blade. Alright?" Belle shifted Blade so he was facing forward. Still broody, he look up and his aunt and smiled a little; he recognized her from the many pictures Belle had showed him.

Looking down onto his chubby little face, into his nearly black eyes, Audrey smiled, seeming to momentarily forget her anger toward her sister.

Without exchanging a single word, Belle bent down and set her son on his feet, keeping her hand in his. Audrey took his other hand before Belle reluctantly let go; this was the first time they had been apart in the past eleven months.

After Belle handed her the bag, Audrey led Blade, who was no longer brooding, into the apartment.

Marcel glanced back at them before stepping out onto the steps, closing the door behind him. He looked down at Belle, his face stern. "You do realize how angry Klaus is gonna be, right?" There was a twinge of genuine concern in his voice.

Belle scoffed, "Angry is an understatement. Trust me, I know very well how he is toward those who betray him. I've seen it."

"But you've never been on the receiving end. You didn't just betray him, Belle; at least, that's not how he sees it. You see, in his eyes you did three things: you took what was his, you abandoned him, and, even though he doesn't talk about, you broke his heart. You betrayed his trust, and that's something he will never even consider forgiving."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

She and Marcel turned.

The voice that had once made her heart skip a joyful beat now made it all but stop. The man who had once set her soul on fire now threatened to claim it for himself. Fear was one thing he had never made her feel, until that moment.

But she played it off, maintaining the illusion of composure. "Niklaus," she said as her eyes met his.

He turned to Marcel, eyes narrowed, lips pursed angrily. "Leave us," he said gruffly.

Slowly, head held high, hands in the pockets of her jacket, she walked down the steps toward him. "I was coming to see you," she said.

"And yet, here I am. Tell me, Belinda, how exactly would you like die?" His words sent chills up her spine. He stepped forward, mimicking her stance. Even in the dark she could see the fury burning in his eyes – a beacon, a warning.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Klaus. Just hear me out," she said, trying to reason with him. With each passing second, with every breath she took, she found it harder and harder to maintain her calm facade. "Please."

He scoffed. "I wouldn't have imagined you to be one to beg for your life; then again, I suppose I don't really know you at all." He began circling her, closing in. She kept her gaze locked on his. "You see, the woman I knew would have known better than to stand against me, especially after centuries of loyalty and adamant devotion. But the one I see before me now is nothing more than a treacherous coward." He stopped in front of her, now mere feet away. She could see his breath fogging faintly around his mouth as he spoke.

His words cut deep, but Belle clung to her facade with all her might. "I understand that you're angry, and I know I have to face the consequences for what I did, but is this really the answer? Would you really take away your only son's mother?"

His jaw tightened as his eyes glowed yellow, veins pulsating under his eyes. She could see his fangs peaking out from behind his lips.

In one swift motion he forced her against the brick wall behind them, a hand to her throat, holding her up off the ground so he could look her in the eyes; her feet dangled below her.

"Why shouldn't I?" he sneered, his fangs just inches from her face. "That's exactly what you did. You took my son from me. Why?"

She tried to remove his hand from her neck, but his grip was iron. "Because," she choked, still trying to pry his hand away.

With all her strength, she kicked him in the shin, snapping the bone in half. It gave a loud crack as he groaned loudly, collapsing to the ground. Her own fury now starting to boil over, she kicked him swiftly in the ribs, making sure he'd stay down long enough for her to explain herself. It pained her to hurt him.

"Because I though I was doing the right thing. I was stupid and selfish and I'm sorry, okay?" Her voice broke as tears filled her eyes. After her outburst, her facade completely dissolved, along with her anger. "I'm so sorry."

He got to his feet, eyes blazing. She searched his features for any sign of guilt or remorse, but found none.

"I never meant to hurt you; you have to know that," she insisted, choking back tears.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she saw his eyes soften as he stared into hers. He took a step forward, then another. He reached out with one hand and put it on her shoulder. His touch was gentle, soft, and – dare she say, kind. With his other hand, he brushed the pads of his fingers over her cheek.

She inhaled sharply, breathing him in. Was this forgiveness?

His lips curved up into a smirk, the embers reignited in his eyes, and in that instant she realized that she was wrong. Very wrong. "Liar," he spat.

After a split-second of pain everything went black.

When she came to her head was pounding and her limbs were rigid. She was lying on the cold concrete.

Her eyes flickered open, but her vision was blurry. A tall, dark figure stood over her, extending a hand.

"Need a hand?"

The voice, a man's voice, sounded familiar. His face came into view and suddenly she remembered exactly who it was: someone she hadn't seen since her early years as a vampire.

"Lucien?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. – It's been forever since I last updated! I'm so sorry, guys. I honestly have no excuse other than my own laziness and procrastination. I'll try to be more frequent with my updates. Thank you to everyone who has followed/favorited/reviewed so far! Now, without further ado, let's get into it. Please review and enjoy :)**

* * *

Lucien's lips curled into a slight grin and his eyebrows raised, amused. "Hello, Belle. Long time no see."

She reached up and grabbed his hand with her own, putting her other hand on his forearm to steady herself as she got to her feet. Her neck was stiff and her head was throbbing like someone had hit her with a sledgehammer. "Yeah, it's...it's been a while," she said, grinning halfheartedly up at him.

"What's it been, 900 years?"

"Give or take." She shrugged.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings, looking for any sign of Klaus. He was gone, and the lights were out in Marcel's loft, which meant they were gone, too. No doubt Klaus had taken Blade back to the Compound.

Her anger reignited.

She searched her pockets for her keys. Squeezing them in her fist, she headed over to her car and opened the door.

"Where are you going?" Lucien was on her heels, resting a hand on top of the car as she put the key in the ignition.

"To finish some business. Can you move?"

He chuckled, putting his foot up so she couldn't close the car door. "You won't be driving anywhere with a flat tire, I'm afraid."

"What?" She leaned out the door, checking her tires; sure enough, someone had stabbed a switchblade into the front left tire; it was completely flat. "Fuck," she groaned. She exhaled deeply and rested her head on the steering wheel.

"Look, if you need protection from whoever it was you were fighting I can make a few calls and," She held up a hand, signaling him to stop talking.

"No, it's fine, really. I'm just having some problems with my ex. It's nothing."

" _Problems_ " was a gargantuan understatement. All she had wanted to do was talk, to make amends, but of course it wasn't that simple. Klaus needed more than an apology; he needed proof. Proof that he could trust her again. Proof that she deserved his forgiveness, which she knew was nearly impossible to obtain. So, she decided then that it would be best to let him cool off for the night. And Blade would be safe with the Mikaelsons; she would stop by and check on him in the morning.

Despite every impulse, every tiny, screaming voice in her head, every bit of rage, she knew she had to wait. She couldn't afford to mess things up any more than she already had.

"I need a drink, and a nap." she finally said, quickly brushing a hand through the straight-across bangs she had cut herself a few months before.

Lucien grinned wickedly, no doubt devising some plan. "I know just the place."

* * *

* _Flashback – 1107*_

 _"Sister!" Max scolded in a hushed whisper, prying Belle away from her prey: the fourth body she had drained that night._

 _The limp body slipped from her hands and hit the ground with a thud. "Yes?" She wiped the blood from around her mouth with the back of her hand._

 _"Are you mad? What have you done? They are going to find us!" he exclaimed, anxiously looking around._

 _She rolled her eyes. "Who, dear brother, are you afraid will find us? The Count?" She scoffed._

 _"Well, yes, seeing as you just murdered his mistress."_

 _"What does it matter? We can simply slaughter anyone who accuses us, though I'm sure no one would suspect the sweet English man and his tiny, harmless sister." Belle rolled her eyes before licking the residual blood from her lips. "No one will know."_

 _"I wouldn't be so sure," a voice said._

 _Their heads whipped around; Belle instinctively barred her fangs._

 _"Who are you?" she demanded._

 _The man entered the room, stepped out from the shadowy doorway. He had long dark hair and dark eyes. There was a playful expression on his face, yet his eyes were stern. "Forgive me, friends. My name is Lucien." He lips parted and slowly curled up into a grin, revealing his fangs. His eyes were now a deep shade of red and distended veins pulsated under his eyes. He was like them: a monster. "It's a pleasure to meet you."_

* * *

A car ride and an elevator trip later, they stood before a set of embossed double-doors. Lucien moved in front of Belle – his back to the door, hands folded behind his back, and an arrogant smirk on his face. "Welcome to my humble abode." He turned around and pushed open the doors with both hands, stepping through the threshold.

Before her was a luxurious, for the lack of a better word, bachelor pad. It was the archetypal modern apartment: stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, a neutral color palette, wood paneling on the walls, a large fireplace with an even larger TV nearby, ample seating, and a perfect view of the city below.

"Nice place," she muttered, following him inside. The doors closed behind her.

"Feel free to make yourself at home. Sit down, have a drink." Lucien said as he walked toward the sitting area, taking off his coat and laying it carefully over the back of the sofa. He took a seat and poured himself a glass of Scotch from the bottle of the coffee table. Belle followed suit, taking a seat at the opposite end of the sofa as he handed her a full glass.

She exhaled deeply and downed the drink in a matter of seconds, setting the now empty glass down on the side table. She leaned back and closed her eyes. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do," she said aloud, mostly to herself.

"About what?"

Her eyes flickered open as she turned her head to meet his gaze. "To be brief, my ex – the one that snapped my neck – is pissed at me because I broke off our engagement and skipped town. So, he took our son, who was with me, and went back to his place. And, before you say anything, it's a long story that I am far too tired to tell right now," she said, barely taking the time to breathe in between each jumbled thought.

Lucien put down his drink and turned his body to face her; she had his full attention, now. "So, you're afraid of what: making things worse by just storming in there?"

She nodded. "Essentially, yes."

"If I may ask, why exactly did you break things off in the first place?"

She rolled her eyes and sat up, turning away from his prying gaze, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. Her jaw clenched. "What makes you think that my love life is any of your business?"

"It isn't my business. That's the point, love."

"And what gives you the authority to ask me such questions?"

"Not a damn thing."

Her gaze returned to his and she couldn't help but smirk. Lucien was annoying as hell, but he was also extremely charismatic. He smirked right back, reaching for his drink. His gaze stayed locked with hers as he took a long sip from it, trying to make her give in. "I'm still not telling you. It's not your business, nor is it anyone else's, for that matter."

"Not even his: your former fiancée's?" Lucien raised his eyebrows. She'd be lying if she said he didn't have a point. Klaus deserved to know why she left, but she couldn't tell him. How could she when she could barely admit it to herself?

"No, not even his," she said.

They sat in silence as Belle poured herself another drink and Lucien refilled his nearly empty one. It was getting late, and sleep weighed heavily on her mind. She needed to escape for a few hours, relieve herself of the evening's stress.

"Mind if I stay here for the night? I swear I'll find a hotel tomorrow. I wouldn't want to impose." She looked over at Lucien with tired eyes, yawning both from exhaustion and in an attempt to convince him to let her stay.

"Of course. Don't worry, it's no imposition at all. You can stay here for as long as you need," he said. She was honestly a little surprised by his response. Of course, she knew he was kind, but he was also egotistic. At least, that's how he was when they had met.

"Thanks," she replied. "I guess I'll take the couch."

He shook his head, getting to his feet. "That won't be necessary; I have a guest room." He pointed to a door across the room. "And I'll send my driver to pick up the luggage from your car, and to bring it back here and have the tire replaced."

She couldn't help but let out a laugh.

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling under his breath. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

Belle shook her head. "No, it's just...funny, you know, how far we've both come over the years."

He smiled and nodded in agreement. "It's certainly an improvement, isn't it? Although, I still enjoy the occasional reckless feed."

"Every now and then," she agreed. "But I'm much better now than I was back then – more controlled."

He nodded. "I'm glad to hear it." After a brief silence he took a few steps, heading toward another door – his bedroom, she assumed, before stopping. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask." His head turned, eyes meeting hers for a moment.

She nodded. "Sure."

With that, Lucien looked away and went into his room, closing the door behind him.

The next morning, Belle awoke at what felt like the middle of the night, but was really just past 11:00, according to the alarm clock beside her. For a moment she forgot where she was. For a moment she thought she was back at the Compound; this happened more often that she cared to admit.

She sat up in bed, her eyes falling on her bags, which had so kindly been placed at the foot of the bed. She got to her feet and opened one of the bags, pulling out a change of clothes. However, before she could get changed, someone started knocking on the door – the front door. She paused, waiting for Lucien to answer it, but the knocking continued.

So, barefoot and bed-headed, she quickly walked out of the room and answered the door. And, much to her surprise, she found Klaus standing on the other side with Blade standing beside him, clinging to his leg like a baby kola bear. Blade had his favorite toy in his hands: a blue velveteen bear.

"What are you doing here?" they asked in perfect unison. Klaus narrowed his eyes and repeated the question.

Before Belle could answer, Blade ran forward. "Momma!" She knelt down and picked him up, her anxiety waning slightly.

"Nik, what are you doing here?" Lucien asked, walking toward them. Belle turned to face him. Lucien slipped his phone into his pocket, brows knit together in confusion. "Wait you two know each other?"

"That's just what I was going to ask," Klaus said as he glared daggers at the back of her head.

"Yes," she said to Lucien. "He's the ex I was telling you about." She turned back to Klaus as she tried to pry Blade's hand from her messy hair. "How do you know Lucien?"

"I turned him," he said, as though it was obvious.

"Well, actually, I was the first person he or any of his siblings ever turned, not to brag," Lucien added.

"Shut it, Lucien," Klaus snapped, pointing a finger in his direction.

Blade laughed, putting his head on Belle's shoulder. He started chewing on the stuffed bear's ear as he watched them with wide, curious eyes.

"How do you know him?" Klaus demanded, his lips pursed in a firm line.

She rolled her eyes. "We met at the Olive Garden," she sarcastically retorted.

"I'm seriously, Belinda," Klaus snapped.

Lucien scoffed. "Ouch." They ignored him.

"Why is that any of your business, Niklaus? It was before I even met you."

"Why are you being so evasive?"

"Why are you being so argumentative?"

"Enough," Elijah boomed, walking up behind Klaus. He stood in the doorway with a hand on the frame. "Are you both really so petty as to fight in front of a child?"

Belle rolled her eyes. "Hello, Elijah. You're as bossy as ever."

"And you are as stubborn as ever," he replied.

"He has a point," Lucien interjected.

Both Klaus and Belle turned to glare at him.

After a few tense seconds, Belle spoke up. "Elijah, could you please take Blade downstairs for a moment so Niklaus and I can have a word? And Lucien, I know this is your place, but I'm going to insist that you wait downstairs with them."

Lucien opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. Mumbling under his breath about how he needed to go into work anyway, he headed out into the hallway.

Reluctantly, Belle handed Blade over to Elijah.

"Noooo," Blade whined, clutching his bear with one hand and Elijah's shoulder with the other.

"It's just for a minute, ok?" Belle assured him, trying and failed to look past the pained look in her son's eyes. He'd be fine.

Klaus closed the door once everyone had walked away. "He seems to know exactly who I am," he said.

"Who?"

"Blade. Not only that, but he also knows Elijah, Rebekah, Hayley, Marcel – hell, he even knowns who Kol is. Now, I'm no expert, but I'm fairly certain that a 12-month-old child doesn't have a long-term memory – and that was the age at which he last saw me, in case you've forgotten. How can it be that he remembers?" The unsettled lilt in his voice was a sure sign that his anger was growing.

She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to fall victim to his intimidation. "You didn't think I would let him forget his own family, did you? Of course, he doesn't remember you per say, but I kept you all alive in his thoughts by showing him little videos and pictures I've accumulated over the past couple of years, so he'd recognize your voices and faces when he saw you again."

"Saw us again? So you were planning on returning him all along?"

"He's not a damn library book, Klaus." Belle rolled her eyes. "Look, when I left I had no intention whatsoever of staying gone. Hell, I didn't even intend to be gone for the night, but it just happened. I just needed some space."

Klaus laughed loudly, facetiously, at this. "You 'just needed some space'? Really? You know, I seriously doubt that." He inched forward, eyes darkening, jaw clenched. "Do you want to know what I think?"

"Oh, of course I'd love to know what _you_ think," she spat, sarcastically.

"I think your intention was to hurt me, to get back at me for breaking your heart all those years ago," he said in a low voice. His face was now just inches from hers.

She balled her hands up into fists, willing herself not to hit him, to be the bigger person. It was the only way to, eventually, earn his forgiveness; she'd let him have his moment. "Get. Out. Now."

Klaus scoffed and said, "fine," before turning around and walking away. He muttered something almost incoherent under his breath and he pushed open the doors before heading down the hallway, out of sight. To Belle, it sounded like he'd said, "I want the ring back."


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N. – Thanks to everyone who's been putting up with my sparse updates. Summer isn't far off, so I'll have plenty of time to write. Please keep up the support! You guys are amazing :) Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

Song: Amy Winehouse – _Back to Black_

One week. That's how long she had given Klaus to cool off. It was also how long she had gone without seeing Blade – and, honestly, she was sort of going through withdrawals. She hadn't gone 24 hours without seeing him since the day he was born, but now it had been a grand and painful total of 174 hours and 20 minutes, according to the little digital clock on Lucien's oven. She sat at the round table in the dining area of his apartment, twiddling her thumbs out of boredom as she glanced from the clock to the window. She had been repeating this cycle for the past hour.

"How long are you going to continue doing that?" Lucien asked from his spot on the couch; he had been working on his laptop all afternoon.

Belle let out a sigh and looked in his direction, turning her head slightly, but not facing him directly. "Do you have anything better in mind that I should be doing?"

Lucien shut his laptop and came to stand behind the chair to her left, placing his hands over the back of the chair and flexing his fingers. "Well, off the top of my head, skydiving, going to a nude beach, drag racing – that's always a thrill. Or, how about we go out for a drink? After all, you haven't left this penthouse since you first arrived." He grinned wickedly, looking her straight in the eyes.

She couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "It's 5:25. Isn't that a little early?"

"Oh, come on, it'll be dark in an hour. Come get a drink with me." He leaned forward over the chair's back, putting extra weight in his hands. His big brown eyes were almost puppy-dog-like, pleading.

She rolled her eyes, still smiling, and nodded. "Ok. Fine." A chuckle slipped thorough her lips as she pushed back her chair and got to her feet. "Just let me get changed and we'll go."

"Good, because those sweats really need to be washed. You've been wearing that same pair for three days," he teased as she headed to her (temporary) room.

Once she had changed into a maroon cropped sweater and a pair of black ripped, high-waisted jeans, she grabbed a pair of black boots and met Lucien by the front door.

They went to Rousseau's and got seats at the bar. They both ordered Bourbon, neat.

The usual early evening crowd was there: a few young couples eating dinner, a few of the city's drunks who were on the verge of passing out, a dozen or so tourists. It was satisfying to see that the city hadn't changed in her brief absence, even if the same couldn't be said for Klaus.

Before her thoughts could fall back into their cycle of negativity and reminiscing, someone came up behind them. Belle recognized her shrill, high-pitched voice from the very second she screeched her name. "Belle!"

Belle turned around and got to her feet, face-to-face with a particularly irritating ginger: Aurora de Martel. A habit she had developed a long ago going into, Belle plastered on the best fake smile she could muster and greeted her with false enthusiasm. "Rory!" she exclaimed, using the nickname she had given Aurora centuries before. "Nice hair," Belle said, motioning to Aurora's crimson locks; a bit of her natural auburn color peaked through at her roots.

"Nice accent," Aurora shot back, forcing a laugh and a wide grin; Belle resisted the impulse to roll her eyes at the red-head's comment on her false American accent. It's better than your hair, she mentally retorted.

Aurora spontaneously threw her arms around Belle and pulled her close, hugging her like a true old friend. Belle had never been sure whether Aurora actually thought they were friends, or if she was just going along with the charade.

Once Belle freed herself from Aurora's grasp, she turned to Lucien. "You remember Lucien, don't you?"

"Of course I do! It's splendid to see you again, Lucien. It's been ages."

Lucien forced an irritated grin and sipped his drink. "Hello, Aurora. You look well."

Suddenly, Klaus walked up behind Aurora, stuffing his car keys into his jacket pocket. He wrapped an arm around her waist; Belle's skin instantly crawled at the sight.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Klaus demanded; his eyes narrowed, but he wore a calm facade.

Aurora tilted her head back to meet Klaus's eyes. "You two know each other?"

"I was about to ask the same thing," Klaus replied as he looked straight into Belle's big baby blues.

"Our brothers were in a perpetual on-again, off-again relationship: Max and Tristan." Belle shrugged her narrow shoulders before reaching back to grab her drink. She took a long swig as she watched Klaus's mind reel behind his eyes. "Max and I met them back when we met Lucien," she added.

"How do you know her?" Aurora asked. Her fake smile had quickly melted off her face and was replaced with a scowl. Her voice dripped with jealousy; Belle smirked into her drink as she drained the last drop of brown liquor – and she nearly laughed out loud when Aurora added, "is she... _that_ woman?"

" 'That woman'? Why don't you just call me by my stage name: Tinkerbell?" She laughed as Aurora's face contorted in frustration.

"Now is not the time for jokes, Belinda," Klaus spat.

"You are absolutely right, Niklaus. I believe it's the time for you and your, what are you calling her, your girlfriend, to go on home and have a little chat about why you never told her about me."

"He's told me plenty, actually. Like how you kidnapped his son and fled New Orleans in the middle of the night and came back months later, begging for his forgiveness – forgivenesses you don't deserve."

"Kidnap? He's my son! And I sure as hell didn't beg for forgiveness. Honestly, Klaus, what the fu,"

"Alright, enough." Lucien got up from the bar and came to stand between the two angry parties. "People are starting to stare. Can't you lot sort this out another time? Honestly."

"Fine," Belle huffed, crossing her arms. She looked up at Klaus, but avoided his eyes, instead focusing on the crease between his furrowed brows. She couldn't bear to see the anger in his eyes, given that it was directed at her. "Oh, and last week, after our little incident at Marcel's, I found _my_ switchblade jammed into one of the tires of my brand new Lexus. I'd like you to return whatever else you have of mine, assuming it's not all either sold or burnt to ashes."

"There may be a few things left. You can stop by tomorrow morning, assuming you can actually drag yourself out of bed before noon." Klaus said.

"I'll be there." She couldn't help but smirk; this was the perfect excuse to see Blade. Maybe then she could reason with Klaus and work out some sort of custody schedule.

Without saying another word to either of them, Belle turned and reclaimed her seat at the bar. Lucien joined her. She waited until she heard them walk out the front door to put her head in her hands and let out a deep, defeated sigh; at last, she could drop the tough girl act. "God, I am so stupid," she mumbled.

"Why are you stupid? I thought you were rather brave back there, standing up to Klaus and all."

She just shook her head, lifting it from her hands, but evading his gaze. "Forget it. Let's just go back to your place. This night was a bust, anyway." She got up and headed for the door, ignoring Lucien's request for her to stay. She could feel tears filling her eyes and she'd be damned before she'd cry in public.

Lucien was right behind her as she entered the penthouse, attempting to make a beeline for her room, but he flashed in front of her, arms spread out so he was blocking the door.

"Get out of my damn way, Lucien. I'm not in the mood."

"What's wrong?" There was genuine concern in his voice, which was a little surprising. "Please, just tell me." His eyes were soft, calm.

She exhaled and turned around, heading to the couch, knowing Lucien was too stubborn to let her flee to any other room. "I seriously doubt you want to hear the shit that's going through my head right now, Lucien, honestly." She took a seat on the far right corner, taking off her shoes and putting her feet up on the table. She was doing her best to keep it together, to act like it was no big deal seeing her ex with another woman. But it was a big deal.

Lucien came over and sat at the opposite end, reaching over to swat her feet away from the table. "Come on, this is a nice table. Not to mention, expensive." Belle side-glanced at him; he was smirking. She absentmindedly smirked back. "So, what's going on inside that gorgeous little head of yours?" he inquired, quirking an eyebrow as he watched her intently.

She took a few moments to decide just how honest she was going to be. "Honestly, I'm just...mad."

"At whom?"

"At Klaus."

"Why?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because it does."

This quick recall crap was exhausting. She groaned and pulled her feet up to her chest, turning to face Lucien fully. The sooner she confessed what little she was willing to, the sooner she could free herself from his prying eyes and questions. "I'm mad at him for moving on." She stared down at her socks; they were white with little pink and blue polka dots on them. "How could he get over me so quickly?" She scoffed once the words passed her lips. They were true, and full of uncertainty. "I mean, I've been madly in love with him for centuries, and so has he. If I can't move on, how the hell can he?" Her wide eyes met Lucien's before falling again. He was focused on her, watching her every movement, hanging on to her every word. It had been a while since someone had paid that much attention to her.

"You're still in love with him." It wasn't a question; it was a claim, an echoing of her words. "How do you know that he doesn't still feel the same?"

She shrugged. "Because he's with _her_."

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so?' " Her eyes, swimming with confusion, met his.

"I mean, what if he's in denial? What if he's just using her to hide his affections for you?"

She scoffed. "So what if he is? What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Me," he said.

"What?" She openly laughed. "I'm sorry, but how exactly will sleeping with you make Klaus admit his feelings for me?"

Lucien raised a hand, sitting up a little taller. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

A wicked grin played at his lips like he was devising a brilliant plan. "What if you and I pretend to be together? You can give Niklaus a taste of his own medicine."

Belle leaned back against the arm of the couch, pondering the idea. Could it work? Maybe. Would Klaus see it coming? Possibly.

Lucien turned away, grabbing the bottle of Scotch and glasses from the table. He poured them each a shallow glass and reached out to hand her one of them. She took it, watching the amber liquid while she considered whether or not to take Lucien up on his offer, to enact this plan of his.

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as a particular intrusive thought returned: her time was limited.

If she agreed to take part in this plan, it had better be quick and effective. She wanted Klaus back. She wanted her family back. She wanted her life back.

"Ok, I'm in." Belle and Lucien clinked their glasses together.


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N. – Here's a quick shoutout to guest reviewer Coralline: thanks so much for following my stories! It really means a lot :) I'm more than willing to answer any questions you have. You should really watch The Originals show, too. It's amazing; I only hope that I'm doing it some justice. Thanks again!**

 **And thank you to my other reviewers and followers! Please review and enjoy.**

* * *

The warm water cascaded over her skin, beading up on her shoulders before it slid down her body to the floor of the shower. Belle tilted her head up to the water, letting it run down her face. She knew she needed to get out. She needed to get to the Compound before Klaus decided to revoke her invitation for the day.

Once she turned off the water, Belle stepped out onto the cool tile floor. She reached for a fluffy white towel and pat her face dry. She padded over to the door to grab her robe, but instead stopped in front of the mirror that hung above the sink.

She groaned inwardly as her eyes fixed on the dark mark at the bottom of her left shoulder blade: it looked like a bruise, but it was much darker – almost black. A deep frown tugged at her lips as she grazed it with her finger tips. The mark had started off no bigger than a dime when it had appeared a month before, but since then had quadrupled in size, and continued to grow with each passing day.

Every witch she had contacted had no idea what to make of it, only that it originated from dark magic.

After mulling it over for a while, Belle was now certain she had found someone who would know something about the mysterious mark: Freya Mikaelson. She had learned of the long-lost sister through one of her informants; a witch that old and that powerful ought to know something.

A knock on the door startled her, derailing her train of thought. "Belle?" It was Lucien.

"Yeah?"

"It's almost nine. You may want to head over the the Mikaelson's soon."

She exhaled and ran a hand through her wet, frizzy curls. Confronting Klaus was definitely not something she was looking forward to. Perhaps he wouldn't try to pick a fight this time. Belle promised herself that she would be on her best behavior, mostly for Blade's sake. "Yeah, okay. I'll be right out." She shrugged on her gray linen robe and tied it at her waist before opening the door, sending a gust of stream bellowing out behind her.

"Christ, how hot was your shower?" Lucien laughed.

"Oh, it's not the water that made it so hot. That was just me," she retorted. Belle smirked and rolled her eyes as she walked past the grinning vampire, leaving a trail of water droplets behind her.

The Compound hadn't changed a bit in her absence. Even at this early hour – well, early for her – it was already busy. She stood at the front doors listening to the commotion inside. She heard Elijah and Rebekah's voices first; it sounded like they were arguing. After a few seconds, a high-pitched squeal echoed from behind the closed doors: Blade. He was laughing.

Growing anxious, she knocked loudly. Elijah opened the door for her, standing in her way. "Niklaus said you might stop by." His face was stern, his brown eyes cold. It had been ages since she had seen him this way.

She cleared her throat, doing her best to ignore his ire. "Well, I'm here. Excuse me." She quite literally pushed past him, forcing him against the wall with her shoulder as she shoved past and headed inside.

Blade was running around the courtyard while Klaus stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching him with a smile on his face – a smile that vanished once he realized she was there. "You actually showed up," he said.

"Of course I did."

Blade turned to face his mother, a big grin on his face. He ran over into her open arms before she picked him up, pulling him close.

"Hi, baby." She kissed his head as she set him on her hip, holding him with both arms. He was a little small for an almost two-year-old.

He put one hand in his mouth and the other in her still damp hair, nuzzling his face into her neck. Belle felt a wave of relief wash over her; words couldn't describe how good it felt to know that he was fine, happy.

"I thought you wanted to come by to collect what little of your belongs are left here." She rolled her eyes at the agitation in his voice. She knew he wanted her out of his proximity as quickly as possible.

"I assume you want me out of your hair."

"That would be ideal, yes." Klaus stepped forward, hands folded behind his back. His eyes were much calmer than they had been last night, which was progress.

Belle chose her words carefully, trying to set in place the peace she had in mind. "Of course," she said, biting back a snarky comment about how he had no right to tell her what to do, etcetera, etcetera. She bent down and put Blade on his feet. "How about you go play in the other room for a minute, okay? I promise I'll be right back." It physically hurt her to get the words out; her heart wretched at the thought of parting with him for even a minute.

His eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth to protest, but only a whimper came out. "Mamma, no," he managed. Tears welled up in his eyes, but before they could fall Belle scooped him up again and carried him to the living room. Hayley and Rebekah sat on the couch while Hope sat in the floor with a pack of stuffed dogs spread out around her.

"Keep an eye on him, would you?" she asked, turning to Hayley.

"Sure, why not. I've been doing it all week," she muttered.

Belle set Blade back on his feet, clenching her jaw tightly so as not to say something she knew she'd regret. Blade ran over to his sister and sat down across from her. They seemed to be getting along well enough, though Hope paid little attention to him. She sat quietly with a pink polka dot pacifier in her mouth.

From his spot by the door, Klaus cleared his throat unnecessarily loud. Belle rolled her eyed and followed him out, not noticing when Rebekah got up and followed her. Belle turned around when she heard the door close behind her, coming face-to-face with one of the many people she had wronged. And she looked absolutely furious.

"Hey, Beks. Long time, no see."

Rebekah stood with her arms crossed, her lips pressed in a firm line. "How dare you show your face here after what you did."

An involuntary scoff slipped through Belle's lips. "Okay, I understand why he's mad," she said, turning and pointing at Klaus, who stood a few feet behind them, watching the scene unfold before him. "But what the hell did I do to you?"

Instead of using her words, Rebekah opted for for a message she knew for a fact Belle would get: she punched her straight in the face. The blow sent Belle stumbling backward into the wall. She reached up and wiped away the blood the trickled down from her bottom lip, clenching her fists so tightly that her knuckles were stark white. "You get one of those," she spat, standing up straight as she wiped the blood on her jeans.

Aurora's voice came echoing down the hall as she approached them; Belle's blood ran cold. "Oh, do we get to hit her now, Nik, because if so,"

"If you hit me I'll knock your fucking teeth down your throat," Belle warned, glaring at the grinning redhead.

Aurora pouted and came to stand beside Klaus, clinging to his arm. She kept her green eyes locked with Belle's blue ones, taunting her. Belle wondered if she could tell just how envious she was, or if Klaus could for that matter. Honestly, she didn't know which would be worse: Klaus knowing about her lingering feelings, or Aurora. As much as she wanted to profess her undying love, Belle knew that Klaus was in no mood to forgive her. He would shoot her down, crush her heart. She had to be patient.

"I've already sorted your wardrobe into boxes; they're upstairs."

"Well aren't you sweet," Belle said, sarcasm dripping from her words. She forced a polite, yet blatantly facetious smile.

"What grown woman wears size 4 shoes?" Aurora spat back, grinning. Belle wanted so badly to slap that grin off her little cherub face, but opted for an eye roll.

She headed upstairs, Klaus on her heels, to retrieve her belongings. Half a dozen cardboard boxes were stacked outside Klaus's – a presumably Aurora's, bedroom.

"This should be everything: well, what wasn't thrown out," Klaus said. His voice was a little softer now, perhaps because they were alone. Belle decided to take this as an opportunity to get some things sorted out.

"What about Blade?" She leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

"What about him?"

"Am I ever going to get to see him? By which I mean at my own convenience and on my terms – not yours."

Klaus scoffed. "What exactly are your 'terms'?"

"Well, first of all, I think I should get him on weekends."

At this, he openly laughed. "And where would the two of you possibly stay? At Lucien's?"

"Yes."

Belle watched as Klaus's expression changed ever so slightly. Was he jealous? Angry? Maybe both.

"Are you living there now?" he asked, his jaw a little tenser than before.

"I am. And, when he stays with me, so will Blade."

"Absolutely not," Klaus snapped.

Belle's brows furrowed in frustration as she let out a deep groan. "What reason could you have to object to Blade coming to stay with Lucien and me?"

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps because Lucien's a violent, arrogant, egotist."

She couldn't bear to hold back her next comment. "Well, I guess you're right. I mean, Blade does already live with one of those."

As she had anticipated, Klaus had nothing to say; he just stood with his hands behind his back, glaring at her in annoyance.

"Exactly," she said, smirking. "Tomorrow's Friday, so I'll pick him up around 5:00. Be sure to have him ready." She headed over to the stack of boxes and grabbed the largest one, turning, and heading for the stairs.

Once everything was packed away in her car, Belle spent the day at the Compound with her son. Klaus, as expected, avoided her. She made small talk with Rebekah and Hayley, while Elijah kept his distance. Kol was no where to be found. Belle kept her eyes peeled for the one Mikaelson she actually needed to see: Freya.

Finally, just as she was leaving, Belle passed her in the hall. She was tall with short blonde hair; although Belle had never met her before, Freya's presence felt familiar.

Without saying a word, she grabbed the witch's arm lightly so as not to hurt her. The last thing she needed was a magic-induced brain hemorrhage.

"Can I help you?" Freya asked vehemently. From her tone of voice, Belle assumed she knew who she was.

"I need something from you. Meet me here in two hours," Belle said, slipped a paper with an address written on it into Freya's slender hand. "Come alone, and tell no one."

Precisely two hours later, Belle sat alone on a bench in Jackson Square looking absentmindedly at the cathedral as she waited for Freya to, hopefully, arrive.

The streets were crowded with young lovers, tourists, and drunks, all with no place to be and not a care in the world. How she envied them.

"Alright, I'm here. What do want?" Freya asked, towering above Belle. She stood with her hands in the pockets of her coat and a skeptical expression.

Belle forced a polite smile and patted the open seat on the bench. "Please, sit down."

With a sigh and a few seconds of deliberation, Freya took a seat, facing the cathedral. They stared in silence for a moment or two as Belle tried to figure put where exactly to start. "Over the past month I've been to see some of the most talented witches I know, and they all tell me the same thing: that they don't know what it is, or how to help me. I'm hoping that, given your level of experience and expertise, you'll be the exception."

"And with what exactly am I supposed to be helping you?" Freya turned to face her, curiously sparked in the back her eyes.

Belle let out a sigh, and turned to meet her eyes. "With this." She proceeded to unbutton her coat and lift the hem of her top enough to reveal the dark mark on her shoulder blade. Once Freya got a good look, Belle pulled the fabric back down. "All I've been told is that whatever created this mark was dark, which is obviously not good. I need you to tell me what is it, where it came from, and how to get rid of it. And I need you to do it quickly." Belle turned to face Freya fully, looking deep into her eyes. "Please. It's growing." She struggled to hide the fear in her voice.

Freya shook her head. "I've never seen anything like it before, but I'll see what I can do." Her expression remained composed, her voice indifferent. Belle knew it must be odd, attempting to help someone that somehow was, and at the same time wasn't, family. And if Freya was anything like her younger siblings, there was nothing more important to her than family.

"Thank you." Belle gave her a small smile before she stood to leave. "But, please, don't tell anyone."

"Especially Klaus?"

Belle was taken aback by her boldness; did Freya know? How could she possibly know? Concealing her suspicions, she nodded. "Yes, especially Klaus."

After giving an affirming nod, Freya got to her feet, and the two women parted ways.


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N. – Okay, no spoilers, but the season 3 finale of The Originals was amazing! This season was my favorite so far. I will definitely be including some more aspects of its plot (I won't say which ones), but I'll add my own twists, of course. I already have so much planned, but I'll consider any suggestions you guys have. Also, I'm now out of school for the summer (I start college in August)! Thanks for the support. Please review and enjoy :)**

* * *

Song: Flyleaf – _Again_

It was Friday and 5:00 couldn't arrive soon enough. Belle pulled up to the Compound and rushed inside, leaving the car running in her haste. The doors were unlocked and when she stepped inside, for a moment, she thought no one was home. That is, until she heard a high-pitched squeal from upstairs. She flashed up the staircase to its source, finding Blade and a very sudsy Kol in the bathroom adjoined to Blade's nursery.

"What the heck?" She bit back a swear. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight. Blade was sitting in the tub, and, from what she could tell, over half of the water and bubbles were splashed out onto the tile floor and on Kol's clothes.

Kol turned, a little startled, to face her. "He really does not like baths," he said, grabbing a towel from the rack beside the tub and wrapping Blade in it like a cotton burrito.

"What toddler does?" She laughed, taking Blade from his arms. "Go, get changed, Kol. I'll get Blade dressed."

Kol nodded and got to his feet. He pat Blade's head, smiling. It was strange to see him smile like that, considering that his happy face was almost always associated with something dastardly. Then again, whose heart couldn't be melted by Blade's wide, innocent eyes? "See you later, mate," Kol said. Blade laughed, sticking his arms out from the towel and grabbing onto Kol's arm and hugging it tightly before letting go.

Once Blade was dressed, now wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt and comfy black cotton pants, Belle started gathering some of his things to pack into a bag. He was in his crib, sucking the back of his hand as he watched her with wide, curious eyes.

Klaus came to stand in the doorway. He didn't quite seem mad, just indifferent. "I didn't know you were here."

She could feel his gaze on her as she walked back and forth across the nursery, grabbing Blade's blue bear from one of the shelves; Blade squealed at the sight, reaching out for his favorite toy. "Momma, mine." She handed the toy to Blade and continued packing his bag, doing her best to completely ignore Klaus, though she couldn't resist casting him a glance. He was smirking, but it vanished as soon as her eyes met his.

"Are you just going to continue ignoring me?"

"Yup."

"You do realize that by answering me you've acknowledged me, so I guess you aren't, in fact, ignoring me."

She rolled her eyes and let out a quiet groan. "Could you please not be such a condescending jerk for five seconds and just help me. Please," she snapped. There was an edge in her voice as she turned to face him, glaring. She practically had to force herself to be angry with him, or at least to seem angry. She had to convince him of the lie that she had moved on, but pushing him away was so much harder than she had thought it would be.

He stepped into the room as she continued to fold clothes and grabbed some diapers from the bathroom, putting them in one of the pockets.

"So, where were you?" she asked, eyeing Klaus out of the corner of her eye.

"Here, in _my_ house."

"That's not what I meant. What I meant was, why was your brother giving Blade his bath instead of you? What was, apparently, just so important that you simply couldn't be bothered to take care of your own son?" She was laying on the anger pretty thick, hoping that he wouldn't see through it. And, honestly, she was curious about his answer.

He rolled his eyes and let out a deep breath, frustrated. Good, he seemed to believe her. "Does it matter?"

"It does to me." She paused and turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest.

He did the same.

"I was...preoccupied." The smirk that stretched across his face as the words slipped smoothly from his lips made her visibly cringe. The image of him with Aurora filled her mind, making her wish she could torch her thoughts to rid them of it.

She rolled her eyes, suppressing the jealousy that was rising inside her. "Okay. Ew. Don't want that mental picture," she scoffed. "Nevertheless, Blade should be your number one priority. I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you that, yet here I am."

"Of course he is. Despite what you might be telling yourself and everyone else, I'm a good father. Blade and Hope are my top priorities. But can the same be said for you?" He raised an eyebrow, his lips turning up slightly at the corners, satisfied.

Her jaw clenched. Now she was actually getting mad. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on. As I recall, you spent your first week back in this city with Lucien, not with Blade. You have no right to lecture me about not spending every second of every day with him when you can't say the same for yourself." He had a point, but she wouldn't give in, refusing to admit that he was, in truth, absolutely right.

"I was trying to give you some time to cool off, you know, after you tried to kill me," she said in a hushed, yet angry, whisper. She didn't want Blade to hear. "Just forget it, okay. I need to leave."

Klaus opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to decide otherwise. From the look in his eyes and his tightened jaw she knew it wouldn't have been something nice.

She put the bag on her shoulder, wincing as a sharp pain shot trough the left side of her back. She'd check with Freya before she left to see if she'd found any leads yet, though she knew that Freya probably hadn't yet – and, deep down, Belle knew she probably wouldn't.

After taking Blade out of his crib and setting him down gently on his feet, Belle grabbed his hand and led him downstairs. Freya met her gaze at the bottom of the stairs as she was heading up. Belle stared anxiously back, praying for good news, but, to her bitter disappointment, Freya shook her head and headed upstairs. She didn't realize that she had stopped moving until Blade began tugging vigorously at her hand, trying to pull her forward.

"Ride in the, in the, uhhh" Blade's brows furrowed as he struggled to find the word for which he so desperately searched, but couldn't figure it out, so he made a whooshing noise and he ran his free hand over his head, pushing back his wild curls like a gust of wind.

She chuckled at his enthusiasm; he wanted to ride in her convertible. She shook her head. "I'm sorry baby, but I don't have that car here. I left it back in Shreveport."

"Shreveport?" Klaus boomed from the top of the steps.

Belle immediately froze, turning to face him. Her grip slipped from Blade's as she stuttered moronically, trying to find a way to take back what she said. "I, I didn't know you were there...listening."

"Don't tell me you would be so foolish as to stay just a matter of hours away in the very house I know well. Surely you'd have more sense than to hide in utter plain sight." He slowly descended the stairs, eyes fixed on her.

"No," she scoffed, trying a failing to sound convincing. "Of course not. Why would I? I know better than that. I, I got the heck outta dodge." She knew damn well that he didn't believe a single word that stumbled from her lips, but he let her babble anyway.

"You are, as you've always been, a dreadful liar, Belinda. Just tell me the truth." His voice steadily mellowed out as he reigned in his anger, for Blade's sake.

"Fine," she mumbled, sighing inwardly. "Yes, Blade and I were staying in Shreveport, and yes, we were staying in my house. And I did that because, like I've said, I had no intention of staying gone for long."

"And 11 months isn't 'long'?" he prodded, stepping farther down the stairs. "What made you come back? Guilt, perhaps? Or was it something else? Someone else?"

She stared down at her shoes as she dug the toe of her boot into the wood floor, leaving scuff marks. "That's none of your business, Niklaus," she mumbled. She finally looked up to meet his oddly calm gaze, his facade. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm leaving."

"Fine," he said, begrudgingly. "After all, that is what you do best. Isn't it?" He smirked wickedly, his facade cracking, allowing his true feelings to peek through.

Without another word, she picked up Blade and headed out the door, fighting back what was either the urge to scream something back, cry, or both.

The sun was slowly sinking below the skyline as she arrived back at Lucien's. He had gotten home from work before she'd left, so now he was unwinding on the couch with a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He glanced in her direction and smiled.

"Hey," she greeted, returning his warm, friendly grin. "Blade's going to be staying here with us on the weekends."

"That's fine. Nik told me earlier," Lucien said.

Belle put Blade's bag down on the table, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Lucien. "Oh, I didn't you two were so close." She cleared her throat, attempting to mask the hint of envy in her voice. It occurred to her then Lucien still had his dear friend, while Belle was left alone without hers.

He adjusted his position to face her more fully, his expression concerned and apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by talking to him about your business. Next time I won't," he started.

"No," she objected, shaking her head. "No, it's fine. I don't care if you're friends with him, and you should be free to talk about whatever you want. Really."

Slipping his hand out of hers, Blade headed across the room and climbed up onto the couch, sitting opposite to Lucien. He waved his pale, dimpled hand and greeted him with a quiet, "Hi."

Lucien smiled at the boy's gesture and put down his drink, extending his hand to the apprehensive toddler. Blade reached out his hand and shook it lightly. "Nice to meet you. That's one heck of a handshake you've got there, mate."

Belle stood, watching them with a genuine smile stretched across her face. She could feel the negativity ebbing as she watched her centuries old friend bond with her son. Perhaps things would go more smoothly than she had thought. It was nice to have someone on her side for a change.

That night, Belle riffled through her drawers until she found what she was searching for: Klaus's shirt. The one she had accidentally taken the night she left. She held it close to her chest and breathed it in; it still smelled like him. She knew it was probably sad and, albeit, a bit creepy, but she didn't care. She was, as she had been since she met him, a lovesick fool. And lovesick fools never give up hope.


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N. – Thank you to everyone who's followed/faved/reviewed so far! You guys are amazing :) On another note, I was wondering if any of you guys listen to the songs I often include with my chapters. I'll still include them either way, but I'm curious. As always, please read, review, and enjoy.**

* * *

Songs: Gnash – _I Hate You, I Love You_

Garbage – _Control_

Sweat rolled down Belle's face as she crouched down, one hand planted firmly into the floor below her for balance, staring down a burly young vampire. He grunted, mirroring her stance and prepared to pounce at a moment's notice.

Her lips twisted up into a cunning grin as she watched his every move, analyzing him to determine what exactly his next one would be. "Okay," she said, "give me your best shot, meat head." Her grin widened as she prepared herself to stop the oncoming blow.

He lunged forward, ramming his shoulder into her chest and knocking her off her feet, but Belle retaliated almost immediately, rolling to the right to avoid the next blow. She reached back onto the mat with both hands and propelled herself up and onto her feet. A millisecond later, she had the baby vamp pinned beneath her, her toned forearm pressing into his chest with a surprising amount of strength.

"You're getting better, Bruce," she praised him. Belle stood and leaned forward, offering him a hand. Bruce grinned and gingerly accepted.

"Thanks, Tinkerbell. You're a pretty good trainer."

She rolled her eyes and swatted at his absurdly muscular arm, fighting back a smile.

She had started working at Marcel's gym about two weeks earlier, looking for something to distract her from...well, everything. From the curse. From missing Blade. From being ignored by her sister. From Klaus. Marcel had offered her a position as a trainer for the city's newer, and even older, vampires as a sort of olive branch between them. It had surprised her, of course, but she accepted the opportunity as soon as he had offered it.

"Hey, Tink," Marcel called. Belle was seriously regretting telling them about that old nickname; an ex of hers had coined it years before.

She turned to face him expectantly. "Yeah?"

"You've got a visitor."

Lucien strolled in behind him, a wide grin on his face and a slip of paper and a single red rose in one hand. He raked his eyes over her figure, from her tight black leggings to her matching cropped t-shirt; whether it was a genuine action, or simply for show, she didn't know. She laughed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes; he was laying on the whole pretend boyfriend thing pretty thick. "Forgive me, miss, but I'm looking for a Belinda Campbell. She looks a lot like you, actually, but far less sweaty and gross." He laughed, handing her the rose.

She took it and chuckled, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Jerk." She eyed the paper in his hand. It was a card, an invitation from what she could read from its cover. "What's that?"

"I've been invited to dine with the Mikaelsons this evening for Thanksgiving dinner. And, seeing as how I've been explicitly asked by Klaus not to invite you to the affair, I thought I would ask you personally to accompany me tonight."

She smiled – genuinely, and nodded with enthusiasm. "Well, what girl doesn't dream of gatecrashing her ex fiancé's Thanksgiving."

Shortly after Lucien left, Belle headed home and hopped in the shower. It was already 3:00 and dinner started at 6:30, sharp. Tonight she would look her absolutely best, hoping to remind Klaus of what exactly it was that he was missing. She was running out of time; it was time to fight dirty.

She knew that the rational thing would be to just tell Klaus about her situation and her residual feelings, but she didn't want him to be with her out of pity. Or worse, reject her out of lingering resentment, regardless of whether she was a dead woman or not. The latter was more frightening, and more likely.

Her train of thought came to a halt as she noticed what looked like blood mixing with the water the flowed down the shower drain. Frantically, she checked her body for cuts. Finding nothing, she check her mouth and nose, even her eyes and ears for blood, but still found nothing. She was perfectly fine. So where was the red color coming from?

Suddenly, she came up with a hunch, and checked her shampoo bottle. Sure enough, the formerly white concoction was tinted a purplish-red color. She shut off the water and flashed to the mirror only to find that her hair, her beautiful raven hair, was dyed red. It was subtle, but she wouldn't stand for this childish and immature prank.

"Son of a bitch!" she shouted. She put on her robe and stomped out of the bathroom to show Lucien the damage.

"What is going on?" Lucien headed out of his room, stopping in his tracks as he caught sight of Belle's Little Mermaid locks. "Woah," he exclaimed, before bursting out into laughter.

"Shut up, you ass! Look what that whore, Aurora, did to me! My poor virgin hair," she exclaimed. "I look like a bloody tampon!"

This, to her dismay, only made him laugh harder. He leaned forward, holding his stomach; she could tell he was laughing far harder than he needed to, simply to piss her off even more.

She turned and marched off to her room, dressing herself in seconds and heading for the door, keys in hand.

"Where are you going?" Lucien asked, finally sobering.

"To the salon to get this train-wreck fixed. How the hell did she even get in here to put dye in my shampoo?"

At this, Lucien's laughter ceased all together and he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Well..."

"What, Lucien?" she snapped.

"You see, Aurora came over earlier, to give me the invitation, and we started talking, I invited her in, etcetera, etcetera. I guess she snuck off and put the dye in when I was,"

"Wait, you guys are still friends?" Belle scoffed. "Why wasn't I aware of this? I mean, you would think it was relevant enough to tell me, given that we're in on this little scheme together and all."

Lucien shrugged, a smirk creeping onto his handsome features. "Well, you have your romantic scheme, and I have mine."

"Oh my god, are you in love with her?" She scoffed in disbelief. "How? She's so annoying, and immature, and,"

"Enough," he blurted. From the look on his face she could tell that she had upset him by upsetting his alleged love. "I don't question your feelings for Klaus. Don't question mine for Aurora. Sometimes we just..." he trailed off, lost for words. She could see the love and devotion that shone in his eyes like the brightest of stars in the night sky.

"Fall for people without meaning to. For the littlest and yet most enchanting things," she finished for him. He nodded. "Okay, well now I understand your willingness to help me with this little romantic endeavor." She couldn't help but smile. Someone as maddening as Aurora needed someone like Lucien, someone tame to reign in her madness. And, as charming as he was, she was sure he could aid her in their joined mission by seducing Aurora, so long as she stopped acting like she was still in love with Klaus.

Aurora didn't know him; she only knew the man he had been a thousand years before. But it was Belle who truly knew his heart, who knew the man he was now.

In that moment, it dawned on her. She knew how to win Klaus back. The first step would be the hardest for her, but it was the most crucial: admitting her fault and asking – begging, if need be, for his forgiveness.

After an emergency trip to the hair salon, Belle returned to Lucien's penthouse and got ready. She put on a plum-colored jumpsuit and matching heels, straightened her freshly dyed hair and put on a little makeup. She headed out into the main room and found Lucien standing by the front door clad in an all black suit. She couldn't help but marvel at him for a moment or two; he did look quite handsome. Not that he wasn't a good-looking man, just that she had never really noticed before.

"There's a car waiting downstairs for us," Lucien said, flashing her a quick smile.

She nodded. "Fantastic," she said flatly.

When they were standing in the elevator, she could feel his eyes on her, and couldn't help but blush under his gaze. Her head was swimming with new, confusing thoughts, but she quickly drowned them. She had more important things to worry about.

They got in the car and arrived at the Abattoir shortly. Belle wasn't the slightest bit nervous as she strode in through the front door, head held high. She and Lucien walked in together, her hand on his arm.

The room looked like autumn had thrown up everywhere: the railings of the staircases were lined with lights and orange leaves, the fountain was filled with more leaves, mums, and a few seasonal gourds, and vases of orange and red flowers were scattered around the room and placed on the table. The open bar, however, did look rather appealing, but Belle wasn't about to let alcohol skew her judgement; she had a plan to set into motion, after all.

The other guests had already arrived by then. Some were seated around the table, sipping at either wine or water, while others stood and talked quietly, waiting for dinner to begin. She quickly took note of everyone in the room: Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, Hayley, Freya, Aurora, Tristan, Marcel, and, to her surprise, Audrey. She assumed that Hope and Blade were upstairs napping; she'd go visit them after dinner, assuming no one tried to kick her out before then. She had no idea why Klaus wasn't down yet. She figured he would have been the ringleader of this little circus.

"Speak of the devil," she muttered under her breath as she watched Klaus saunter down the stairs. His eyes fell almost immediately on her, and on her hold on Lucien; he scowled, but said nothing. In fact, he ignored her all together. "Lucien, so glad you could make it," he said, forcing a smile. Lucien smiled with his mouth closed, nodding in Klaus's direction. Klaus stepped down from the final stair and cleared his throat, gaining everyone else's attention. "Well, now that everyone's here, let's get started."

Appetizers were passed around and everyone was making small talk, seeming to break off into smaller groups and private conversations. The tension thick, but everyone pretended not to notice.

Belle had taken a seat beside Hayley, engaging in a halfhearted conversation about the plans for her and Elijah's wedding. Long story short, there were none yet. Hayley said that they were in no rush to tie the knot, but Belle noticed something in Hayley's eyes that made her doubt her words; it looked an awful lot like uncertainty. She would speak with Hayley privately another time.

Belle could feel Tristan's eyes burning a hole in the side of her head. She knew he had something to say, probably about Max. She was in no mood to address his condolences or to answer his questions, so she quickly shot him down. "Tristan, if you say what I think you're planning to say to me I swear to God I will punch you in the face."

"Actually, I wasn't going to mention Max," he said smoothly before taking a bite of his green beans.

"Oh," she muttered into her water glass. She set it down and cleared her throat, trying to distract herself from the nauseating way Aurora was looking at Klaus and how he was looking back at her with the same, lovestruck expression. She wanted to slap it off his face. "So, Tristan, how's life? It's been what, twenty years since we last spoke."

"Twenty-three," he said, averting her gaze. "And I've been well enough, not that you have any real concern." He seemed angry, probably from the whole 'punch you in the face' bit, so she didn't press him further. He was right, after all; she didn't really care.

However, there was one person in particular whom she did, in fact, want to speak with at that moment. "Audrey, how've you been? I haven't seen you since,"

"Since you came back into town. Yeah, I know," Audrey snapped, glaring from the opposite side of the table. Marcel squeezed her hand, but that didn't seem the squelch her anger. "I've been waiting for my apology."

Belle couldn't help but scoff. "Your apology? I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I owed you one." Her words came off harsher than she had meant them to, but she was honestly just surprised. She had known Audrey was mad, but apologizing? Was that necessary?

The room fell silent as Belle continued. "It's true, there are so many things I need to apologize for, but what the hell did I do to you?" Her anger was showing through. Practically everyone else in that damned room was against her, but why was her own sister hell bent on choosing this moronic anger over peace?

"I'm not surprised," Klaus said from his seat at the head of the table.

"Brother," Elijah warned, sitting opposite of Klaus.

Klaus gave him a silent warning to stay out of this. "You've burned a lot of bridges," he said.

"And so have you," Belle countered. "What's your point?" She sipped from a gold-rimmed glass of blood and she eyed him.

Klaus scoffed. "My point is that it would appear that you've got your head so far up your ass that you can't see how wrong you really are. You've wronged many in your day, including your own family, but, of course, you aren't willing to admit it because you are, as we all know, a coward."

That did it. She stood up, slamming her fists on the table. "Coward? I am not a coward. If I were then I wouldn't admit to you that I'm wrong."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You're wrong, are you?" Klaus smirked at his own facetious words.

"Of course I am!" she nearly screamed. "I know that I was stupid, that you're right and I'm wrong. I'm not that deeply in denial, Niklaus. I know what I am, I know what I've done, but at least I'm willing to admit it. Are you?" She was shaking as her fury boiled over like a pot that had been left on the stove for too long. She had been holding back her confession for far too long; now the truth was consuming her, crushing her under its weight. Tears quickly filled her eyes, but she held them back. "I know all the wrong that I've done, but I can't take any of it back now. Your anger, is pointless, all of you." She pointed an accusatory finger at everyone at the table, both the guilty and the innocent. "I'm done with trying to explain myself to people who refuse to listen."

"Belle," Lucien said in a quiet, soothing voice. He reached out to grab her by the arm, but she pulled away and turned to leave.

She paused and turned back them as she headed for the door. A single tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm tired of apologizing." With that, she left and slammed the door violently. She could still hear them talking about her outburst as she walked away.

That night, she prowled the busy streets of New Orleans endlessly, walking every inch of the French Quarter three times over before deciding to go back to Lucien's. She hoped he wouldn't want to talk about what happened at dinner, because she wasn't in the mood. Her anger had turned into dread in the hours since her explosion and all she wanted was to forget about the whole thing.

She checked the clock on her phone as she got out of the elevator; it was just past ten; Lucien was probably still awake, waiting for her to return. She opened the doors and passed through the threshold. Lucien must have heard her; he was on his feet, standing just a few feet away. His mouth was open, but he said nothing. His eyes were filled with concern. She couldn't bear to look at them.

"I don't want to talk about it, Lucien," she said, turning away to close the door behind her.

He walked toward her slowly, like he was planning each step before he took it. "Then don't." He now stood just inches away from her, and stopped.

Belle turned to face him fully again, her eyes cautiously meeting his. She could feel his warm breath as he looked down at her. There was a look in his eyes, one that had never been there before. Suddenly, she didn't feel distraught anymore. Another, more powerful, feeling took hold.

Instinct took over as she leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her lips crashed against his in a rough, bruising kiss, and he kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm. After a few heated seconds, she pulled back for a moment and unbuttoned his shirt in a flash, letting it fall to the floor. She ran her hands over his toned, muscular chest and torso as she went to undo his belt. In an instant, she found herself with her back pressed against Lucien's dining table. He hovered above her, hands planted firmly on the surface below them, with the embers of lust burning brightly in his eyes like the sun itself. Belle eagerly pulled him back down to her, needing the closeness.

And after a little while, the night just...got away from them.


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N. – Thank you guys for the feedback you've provided so far! I take it that no one is a Belle/Lucien (Blucien?) fan. Anyway, keep up the support. (I apologize in advance for my mediocre poetic skills; poetry isn't really my forte.) As always, please read, review and enjoy :)**

* * *

*France – 1107*

The man, the monster, who called himself Lucien led Belle and Max out into the garden to properly dispose of the bodies that Belle had carelessly dropped through the course of the night. "You should really learn to be more careful," he said as he threw the last body onto the pile of corpses. To her surprise, there were other bodies there, one's that she hadn't drained. Other vampires were there. In their fairly short time as creatures of the night, Belle and Max hadn't run into any others like them, aside from Charlotte. She wasn't yet sure how to feel about this – perhaps joy, or, quite possibly, fear.

"There are quite a few bodies here," she mused. "Was this your doing?" She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and stood with her hands behind her back, watching Lucien with both curiosity and suspicion.

He stood taller, pushing his chin-length brunette hair out of his face. Getting a better look at his face, she had to admit, he was rather handsome. "A few of them, yes. Though I suppose I can't take all the credit."

Belle raised an eyebrow. "There are others?"

"Yes," he said, nodding.

"How many?" Max asked, unable to hide the anxiety that carved its way into his features; his cerulean eyes widened and his jaw clenched tightly. Unlike his sister, Max's first instinct was almost always flight. Hers, on the other hand, was always fight.

"Just two, aside from myself. They are...friends of mine, I suppose. Brother and sister, like the two of you."

Belle's head whipped around as she heard two sets of footsteps behind her: one heavy, one light. Her eyes fell on a young man and a woman who were dressed immaculately.

"Speaking of – Aurora, Tristan," Lucien said, nodding in their direction. There was a look in his eyes as he stared into the man's that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Fear? Hate? Both?

The man, Tristan, was fairly tall, around Max's height. A beam of moonlight illuminated his face, his blue eyes glinting. She could see the skepticism and contempt in his expression. "Who are these...strangers?" he demanded.

Lucien opened his mouth to reply, but Belle beat him to the punch. "I'm Belinda Campbell. This is my younger brother, Maxwell." She smiled and curtsied politely, though there was something borderline sarcastic about her actions. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Max stood rigidly, choking out, "a pleasure, indeed."

"Forgive my brother," Belle said. "He's a bit odd." She could feel Max glaring at her.

"Forgive my sister. She often forgets to mind her tongue," Max snapped.

The lady, Aurora, giggled, stepping out from behind her brother. Her red hair shone in the moonlight, as did her curious hazel eyes. "Brother, they bicker like you and I do," she chuckled, eyes shifting to meet Belle's. "Would you two care to join us for a drink and conversation? We're staying at the inn just down the road. It's so rare for us to meet others of our kind." She smiled at the pair of them, and it seemed genuine.

"Well, we will need shelter from the day," Max replied. His gaze was locked with Tristan's, and he nodded. "We'd love to join you."

"Of course," Belle agreed, forcing a smile. There was something off about them; she could feel it in her bones. Belle decided that she would have to keep her guard up.

*Present*

Belle awoke to someone brushing their fingers over the black and grey roses that were tattooed on her shoulder. Lucien. She could feel his weight shift on the mattress as he leaned forward to place a series of soft, butterfly kisses on them, working his way up to her neck. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled brightly, a soft moan slipping out as he kissed the particularly sensitive spot behind her ear. So far, this morning was turning out better than she had anticipated.

"Morning," Lucien murmured against her soft, alabaster skin.

She chuckled, rolling onto her back. "Morning," she said, her voice still thick with sleep. She wove her fingers into his thick, dark hair as his lips traced her jawline. He went to move on top of her, but Belle quickly rolled to the other end of the bed and pinned Lucien on his back, pushing the covers to the foot of the bed before moving to sit on his lower abdomen, grinning wickedly down at him.

Just as their lips met, Belle heard her phone ring from the other room. She had half a mind to ignore it and further indulge in this twist in her and Lucien's friendship, but decided, reluctantly, against it. What if it was Klaus on the other end? She couldn't risk missing the call.

She sighed deeply and moved to the foot of the bed, wrapping a sheet around herself as she went.

"Where are you going?" Lucien asked. She could practically hear his eyes roll.

"To answer my phone. I'll be right back." Her phone lay in the floor beside the dining table under a heap of her discarded clothing. Freya's name was on her screen in bright, white text. Without a moment's hesitation, she answered. "Yes," she said quietly. She could feel Lucien standing behind her, listening, watching.

"I've made a few developments regarding your...condition. I can't get away right now, but can you meet me tonight?" Freya, too, kept her voice low.

"Of course. Where and when?" Belle sounded all too eager, but she couldn't help it. She prayed for good news, perhaps some sort of cure.

"I'll text you the details." Her voice lowered; Belle suspected that prying ears were within range of their conversation. Without another word, Freya hung up. Belle could've sworn she heard Klaus's voice faintly on the other line just before it cut off.

"What the hell is this?" Lucien exclaimed, standing naked right behind her. Belle nearly jumped as he put his hand on her shoulder, running the fingers of his other hand over the dark mark on her back. She winced as he pressed lightly on the blue-black skin.

"Son of a bitch!" she whispered to herself. She had forgotten to cover it. How was she supposed to explain it? Lie? No, that wouldn't work. He wouldn't believe her.

"What's wrong?" Lucien turned Belle to face him, placing both hands on her shoulders; his voice was grave.

"It's, well, I don't really know, honestly. That was Freya who called, Freya Mikaelson. She's helping me figure things out."

"Have you tried other witches? What did they say? Do you know anything?" She wanted to roll her eyes at his pestering, yet good-natured, inquiry.

"Yes, nothing, and no. That's why I went to Freya, the oldest, and from what I understand, most knowledgeable witch I know of." She sighed deeply, unable to look him in the eyes and see the pity in them. She didn't want to be some sob story. "Look, can we just not talk about this. Okay? I'm sure you have plenty of other things to worry about besides me and my problems. Like the obnoxious little ginger you're stupidly infatuated with." She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood and take the focus off of her.

"Is it life threatening?"

She shrugged. "I don't know." She sounded far more nonchalant than she actually felt at the moment. Behind the mask she was a raging ball of anxiety.

Lucien didn't seem deterred by Belle simply brushing off her mystery curse like it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, rather than the threat it truly was. But he knew better than to argue with her, so he made a proposal. "I know a witch, a genuine seer, actually. I believe she can help you."

Belle rolled her eyes, pulling away from his unwavering grasp, clutching the sheet tighter to her body. She felt so exposed, so vulnerable. She had wanted to keep the curse a secret; now there was one more person who risked the safety of its secrecy. More importantly, there was one more person who ran the risk of exposing it to Klaus, and he was one of the last people she wanted to know about it. Even after everything they'd been through she didn't want to hurt him, and she knew that this knowledge would. She knew that, somewhere under his facade, Klaus still loved her just as deeply as she loved him. "Look, I don't think some fortune-teller can help me, okay, Lucien? Just stop trying to,"

"No," he snapped, his voice much sharper than she had expected. There was anger in his eyes and determination in his voice. "This is the very least you can let me do; just, please, allow me help you get some peace of mind. I promise you won't regret this," he assured her, his voice much softer now.

She couldn't tell whether it was because of the sex or the revelation of her current predicament, but something had changed in Lucien. Or maybe it was she who had changed.

The seer showed up roughly an hour later. Belle was freshly showered and dressed, sitting on the couch as Lucien answered the door. She nervously chewed her thumbnail as her eyes darted toward the doors, watching the young witch cross the threshold. She was a tall brunette with piercing, yet wise, eyes. "Let's make this quick; I've got plans," she said, her dark eyes scanning the room nonchalantly.

"I've already briefed her; Alexis will take a peek into your future, and you will then feed on her directly to see what she has seen. Quick, easy, painless."

"Before we get started, I have a quick question for you," Belle said to Alexis, who met her gaze.

"Yes?"

"Tell me, do you get your fortunes from those little Chinese cookies, or do you just pull them out of your ass?" Belle laughed at her own, admittedly tasteless, joke.

Alexis's jaw clenched. "Okay, if she's going to be a bitch and mock me then I'm out."

Lucien held up his hands. "There's no need to be hasty, Alexis. You have to forgive my friend; seriousness is not something she knows well."

Belle rolled her eyes at his comment, but kept her response to herself. "Let's just get this over with."

Without warning, Alexis reached out and grabbed Belle's wrists, holding them a little more tightly than was necessary, and closed her eyes. The room was eerily quiet until, finally, she awoke from whatever trance had overtaken her. The witch nodded and moved her curls aside, exposing her neck. Belle couldn't help but lick her lips as her eyes locked onto the woman's pulsing carotid. Her fangs extended and she, a bit too eagerly, sunk them into Alexis's flesh.

Immediately, images of blood and carnage and faceless strangers began flashing through her mind while Alexis monotonously recited a riddle: Belle's fortune, her future. _"It will end when it began, but not by your own hand. Hearts are not the only things that will ache, for your body and will, too, shall break. Razor teeth and crimson eyes will hold more than one deadly surprise. Betrayal, lies and deceit await. Choose wisely, for actions, not words, will decide your fate."_

Belle saw the crimson eyes and teeth Alexis spoke of. She saw a mountain of bloodied, beaten, bodies. She saw the night sky, full of twinkling stars as snowflakes drifted down. But the most shocking thing she saw shook her to her very core: Klaus holding Belle's gray, lifeless corpse in the middle of a street, snowflakes clinging to the tears on his cheeks.

She pulled away abruptly, blood dripping from the corners of her lips. She felt shock and paralyzing fear overtake her mind and body as her thoughts reeled. Belle didn't even realize that she was crying until Lucien wiped away the stinging tears from her cheeks. "What did you see?" she heard him ask, but his words didn't register at first.

So it was true, set in stone; she was going to die. Her mind was so cluttered and overwhelmed that she couldn't make heads or tails of what the witch had said. The words played on a loop in her conscious, but they were nothing more than white-noise at that moment.

"It's not true." She barely registered the words as they stumbled from her white, bloodied lips. She stared into the witch's eyes, but saw nothing. Her body was in Lucien's living room, but her mind was still in the vision, watching everything she had seen on replay, trying to make sense of it. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, and anger pushed past the shock and jumped to the forefront of her mind. Without realizing it, Belle's grasp closed around the seer's throat, squeezing tightly. She could feel Alexis swallow in fear. "Liar," Belle seethed, her eyes set on the witch's, paying no mind to the fear she found in them.

"Belle," Lucien snapped, forcing Belle off. His hand closed tightly around her wrists, restricting her. "She's telling the truth."

"My visions are genuine, conjured from you, and you alone. They are true, and they are your future. I'm sorry if that upsets you," Alexis said, her voice hoarse. She rubbed the sore red marks around her throat that would surely become bruises within the hour.

Lucien turned to Alexis, nodding, keeping his hold on Belle. "Thank you, darling. You can leave."

She scoffed, heading back to the doors. "I expect my check within the week, with a bonus, of course."

He rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yes, yes. Now leave," he snapped. She needed no further prodding and was out the door in an instant.

As soon the door closed Lucien released his grip on Belle. His eyes softened a little. There was a spark of curiosity that ignited in them. She looked away again. "What did she show you?" he asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She shook it off and looked him in the eyes.

It took everything in her to say the words aloud, to admit that what she had seen was real, not some nightmare that had wormed its way into her thoughts. What she had seen was, in fact, her future. She knew that, but she couldn't accept it. She had lived too long, fought too hard, to let it all end.

"Belle," Lucien said, more forcefully this time. "What did she show you?" He was getting desperate.

She decided to just blurt it out, get it over with. "My death."

That night, per the instructions Freya had later texted her, Belle waited outside of some sleazy club for Freya. It was 10:07; Freya was seven minutes late. Through the obnoxiously loud techno music that blasted from inside the building, Belle heard the clicking of Freya's boots as she approached. "You're late," she said, looking up to meet the tall blonde's gaze.

"Sorry, I got held up," she said in an uncharacteristically relaxed tone. From the way she was swaying on her heels and suddenly gripping Belle's arm, she immediately knew that Freya was drunk.

"Did you seriously decide to get wasted before you came here to tell me whatever life-altering news you couldn't disclose over the phone? Classy." Belle did her best to hold her tongue, despite having more than a few choice words for the eldest Mikaelson.

Freya hiccuped before holding out her hand, waving it dangerously close to Belle's face. "For your information, I am not 'wasted'. I'm just a little tipsy, and you can blame that on your lover, Niklaus, for providing wine with this evening's dinner."

Belle rolled her eyes. "He is not my lover. Look, can you just cut to the chase and tell me whatever it is you came here to say." She was late to pick up Blade from the Compound; he was probably asleep now.

Freya nodded, attempting to look Belle in the eyes, but she was too tipsy to focus properly. "Fear not. My inebriated state has not impaired my mental faculties. Now, you may want to sit down for this," she said. Her grip on Belle's arm tightened; she couldn't decide whether it was because of the seriousness of the matter, or because she wasn't quite as sober as she let on.

Belle resisted the impulse to slap her. Her patience wore dangerously thin. "Freya, we are on the side of the god damned road; I am not sitting on the decrepit, piss-covered sidewalk. Just. Tell. Me. Now."

"Okay. Here it is." Freya paused, taking a deep breath. "Your curse is, in fact, a curse."

Belle burst out laughing, not only at Freya's response, but also at the serious expression on her face and her grave tone of voice. This "news" was bullshit. "Wow. I'm glad I was prepared for that bombshell!"

Freya shook her head, pressing a finger to Belle's lips. "Shhh, shhh, just stop, okay. You didn't let me finish."

Annoyed, Belle stopped laughing and swatted Freya's hand away. "Fine. And?"

"It's a curse, so someone had to have placed it on you. It's not just something that happens. Someone did this to you. I don't know who, but I can guarantee that their intentions were anything but good."

Finally, something useful. Someone was trying to kill her. Normally this wouldn't surprise, or even really worry her, but after seeing what she had seen earlier that day, Belle was completely and utterly petrified.

However, despite having actually seen her future, there were still so many uncertainties. But there was one thing of which she was absolutely certain: if her end was near, there was no way in hell she was going down without a fight.

After a brief, tense pause, Belle looked at a slowly sobering Freya and said, "I need a drink."


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N. – I have no idea what to put in this author's note, so just be sure to read, review and, hopefully, enjoy :) Thank you. Follow me on Twitter at HaylijahIsLife if you aren't already.**

* * *

Song: The Fray – _Happiness_

Someone shook Belle violently by the shoulder, waking her. The sun burned her retinas as she blinked, holding up a hand to block it out. "What the hell?" She groaned.

Her eyes met Elijah's irritated gaze. He pulled her up into a sitting position. "Would you care to tell me what you're doing here at this hour?"

She blinked again. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the early morning light. She looked around and quickly realized that she was at the Mikaelsons'. She must have come over in her drunken haze and passed out on their sofa. She spotted Freya lying in the floor across the room, starting to stir.

What the hell had happened last night?

"I honestly have no idea. I guess I was pretty out if it." Running a hand through her tangled curls, she turned to Freya. "Can you remember anything, Freya?" she asked.

Freya sat up, wincing at the bright light. Her hair was matted to her head on one side and her eye makeup had all but worn off; Belle saw a few smudges of it on her arm. "Well, we ran into each other at some club downtown, had some shots of tequila, and I think you said something about needing to pick up Blade."

Snippets of the night were slowly but surely creeping back into her mind. She remembered saying that, but there was something else that she couldn't quite remember. "Right, right." She nodded complacently. She returned her gaze to Elijah's. "Satisfied?" she inquired, quirking an eyebrow upward.

Heavy footsteps and a whimsical giggle echoed down the hall toward them. Blade burst through the door moments later, smiling widely.

"Oh, that's not what you want to hear with a hangover: a child's screaming." Freya groaned, getting to her feet.

Belle sprung to her feet and went to pick him up, ignoring the perplexed expression on Klaus's face as she entered the room and saw her.

"Hey, birthday boy," she said to Blade, smiling down at the squirmy toddler in her arms. "How old are you today? Can you show me?" Blade grinned and put up two fingers. "Thats right," she praised.

He clung to a fistful of her hair, like letting go was the most terrifying thing in the world. She suppressed a frown; he usually wasn't so clingy. She knew it was because of her keeping her distance from the Mikaelsons. That had to stop. They needed to set aside any bad blood between them for Blade's sake.

"Did you sleep here?" Klaus suddenly said. Belle turned to face him and saw him attempt to wipe away the smirk on his face as he shifted his attention away from his darling son, their son.

In lieu of snapping something sarcastic at him, Belle decided to act like the mature adult she was supposed to be. "I did. I wasn't exactly in the right state to take him home with me, so I thought I'd stay here so I wouldn't miss a single second of this special day. Plus, it's not like Freya could get herself home." She smirked, glancing in the blonde witch's direction.

Freya rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I would've been fine."

"Oh, so you two are friends now? I didn't know you had even spoken before, and now you're out drinking together all night," Klaus said, unable to mask the annoyance in his voice; perhaps he wasn't even trying to hide it.

Belle simply smirked, refusing to fall victim to his negative tone. "Well, I remembered seeing her here at Thanksgiving and whatnot, and, as you know, I hate drinking alone." Blade wriggled in her arms until she finally set him on his feet. "So, what are we going to do today, hmm?"

Klaus knelt down and grasped Blade's forearms gently, looking him in the eyes. Their proximity made the similarities in their features all the more apparent. Blade smiled. It seemed like he was always smiling. "Let's let him decide. Blade, what would you like to do?"

Aurora came to stand in the doorway; to Belle's surprise, she remained silent, observing with a skeptical expression etched into her dainty features. Belle felt an unexpected comfort knowing that, for once, there was someone around who probably felt like more if an outsider among the Mikaelsons than she did. She had always been the outsider, a stranger masquerading as one of them when it was clear to everyone that she wasn't.

Blade leaned forward and whispered in his father's ear. Belle couldn't make it out, but the expression on Klaus's face that followed said it all.

"Well?" Aurora prodded. Belle nearly laughed out loud; she had never realized before how desperately Aurora tried to be a part of things, a part of their world. She was the single weed among a garden of roses: unwanted. Well, unwanted by everyone but Klaus.

Klaus turned to Aurora as he stood, but his gaze migrated to Belle's. "He wants us to spend the day together. The whole day."

"And who is 'we'?" Aurora demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"The three of us?" Belle asked, raising an eyebrow at the grinning toddler that stood at her feet.

He nodded. "Uh huh."

She opened her mouth to object, but decided otherwise. She wanted to mend her relationship with Klaus, hopefully to the fullest extent, but she knew that the two of them would have start back at square one: friendship first, romance second. This would be a step in the right direction.

After heading upstairs to take a quick shower and changing into some clothes she had stashed away from years before, Belle took the opportunity to snoop while Klaus finished getting Blade ready for their outing. To her surprise, he hadn't objected to the idea of spending the day with her. That gave her hope, but she knew that his actions were more for Blade's sake than for hers.

Freya was staying in Belle's old room, which upset her more than it probably should have. It didn't bother her that Freya was staying in it, she liked Freya. What bothered her was the fact that no one else had ever slept in that room, in that bed, except her, until now. In her eyes, it was just another way for Klaus to punch her in the gut, a way of boasting about his being "over her" and having "moved on", just like his relationship with Aurora. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, she stumbled upon something else in his old art studio. Once hidden behind a layer of bricks, now exposed for the entire house – the entire world – to see was a portrait of Aurora. Belle had never seen it before. Klaus rarely showed his work to other people, just like how he had kept his past with Aurora a secret for the entire time she had known him. It made her wonder what else he had kept from her. What other skeletons had he hidden away?

She saw movement out of the corner if her eye. It was Hayley. Belle turned, forcing a small smile, and nodded to her. Hayley returned the gesture halfheartedly. She looked...tired, drained.

"Hayley," she called, just as the tall brunette headed down the hallway, a stack of tiny shirts and skirts in her hands.

Hayley turned around, curiosity sparked in her brown eyes. "Yeah?" She took a few steps closer, arms crossed over her chest. Her arched brows were furrowed.

"I was just...how are you?" There was genuine concern in her voice. She had missed the friendship she had found with Hayley; they were both outsiders in the Mikaelsons' world, just trying to fit in. Maybe that was one bond that wasn't entirely severed.

Confusion flashed across her face, but Hayley nodded after a pause. "I'm fine."

"That's good." Belle nodded. "Hey, if you ever want to go get a drink or anything, just let me know. I know you must be stressed with Hope and the wedding and everything else." She smiled, genuinely this time.

Something lit in the backs of her eyes. She looked almost grateful. "Sure," Hayley said, nodding firmly. "I'll let you know." She shifted the laundry from one hand to the other as she turned and walked back down the hallway.

Belle headed downstairs where Klaus waited at the bottom of the stairs, holding Blade's hand. He looked almost nervous; frustrated seemed more likely. Klaus rarely did what anyone else told him to do, but she knew he could never say no to his children.

"Ready?" she asked, lifting Blade off his feet into her arms.

Klaus grunted, but nodded.

They went outside and Klaus unlocked his SUV. Belle opened the door and put Blade in his carseat. There was a bigger pink one in the adjacent seat. "I've got this," Klaus grumbled, pushing her gently aside.

Belle watched him fumble with the buckle for a few seconds, before deciding that he had no clue what he was doing. "Have you never strapped Blade in his seat before? What the heck have you been doing, bungee-cording him to it? Here, just let me," she objected, reaching around him to fasten the seat. A jolt of heat and electricity unexpectedly coursed through her as their hands touched. Klaus must have felt it, too, because he pulled away almost immediately; if she wasn't mistaken, he lingered for a second.

"Let's go," he mumbled, closing the door.

The car ride was awkward, to say the least. They had driven around the entire French Quarter three times and Klaus was getting irritated. "Come one, Blade. Please just pick something. Where do you want to go?"

Belle looked back at Blade, who was straining his little neck to see out the window. She couldn't help but smirk, wondering if he was doing this on purpose just to frustrate his father.

Suddenly, Blade started squealing and pointing out the window. "D'ere, d'ere," he exclaimed, squirming vigorously in his seat.

"Where, that playground?" Belle asked. He nodded. "Baby, it's a little chilly outside. Are you sure you want to?"

Blade nodded once again. "Uh huh."

Klaus pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car. "We'll stay here for a little while, then go home and have cake. How does that sound?" Blade smiled and nodded. "Okay."

There were a few other kids there, most around Blade's age, some a little older. She was nervous to let go of his hand and let him go play; he was so much smaller than the other kids. She didn't want him to get hurt. Reluctantly, she released her hold on Blade, and followed him over to the swings. He was almost too short to get into it, but he managed. Klaus pushed him in it while Belle stood off to the side, watching carefully – nervous, protective.

"You may not want to get to close to the children, Belle. They might think you're one of them," Klaus joked.

She rolled her eyes. "Jerk," she mumbled, laughing.

Klaus glanced over at her, eyes swimming with apprehension. But Belle knew exactly what he wanted to say, so she said it for him. "I think we should make a more serious effort to get along, you know? For Blade. I mean, we were friends before things got..." She let a long sigh, searching for the right word to say.

"Complicated," he finished for her. "And I agree. He needs both of us in his life. As I've said, you're welcome to come by any time to see Blade."

"Only this time you actually mean it," she said, smirking. Klaus rolled his eyes. "Well, I'd like that. Thanks."

After about an hour, she, Blade and Klaus headed back to the Compound; the car ride wasn't awkward this time, just quiet, like they used to be. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but Belle was fairly sure that, for the first time in a long time, things were headed in the right direction.

But the image of her death wormed its unwelcome way into her thoughts. She wouldn't let the vision come true; she couldn't. For Blade. For Klaus. For her family. For herself. There would be more birthdays, more time playing on the swings, more quiet rides in the car. She would find a cure for the curse, and she would survive. After all, she always did.


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N. – My 5 year anniversary of being here on FanFiction is coming up! (July 7th) Yay! Also, happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans. Anyway, please read, review and enjoy :) (Here's a picture I found that made me think of Belle and Blade! It's on my Twitter. *Type twitter .com before the rest*)** /HaylijahIsLife/status/746393132330160128

* * *

" _It_ _will end when it began, but not by your own hand. Hearts are not the only things that will ache, for your body and will, too, shall break. Razor teeth and crimson eyes will hold more than one deadly surprise. Betrayal, lies and deceit await. Choose wisely, for actions, not words, will decide your fate."_ Belle had repeated these words to Freya multiple times, even written them down on paper for the both of them to read, but they still failed to comprehend even a fraction of what it meant. Well, aside from the two obvious points: death and heartbreak were definitely in the cards for her. Hopefully, with Freya's help, she could avoid the former. The latter was, as she saw it, inevitable.

" ' _It will end when it began_ '; hear that: when, not where. It's the time. The date, perhaps," Freya said, continuing to pace the length of Lucien's living room. Lucien was work, so Belle took the opportunity to invite Freya over.

"Yes, but what is ' _it_ '?" Belle added. She bit her thumbnail absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the empty space before her as her mind reeled.

Freya took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, snatching up the paper with the words from the coffee table. Belle couldn't help but notice how she kind of resembled Klaus when she focused intently on something; they had the same expression, and it made their similar features even more pronounced. "Do you think it's referring to your life?"

"What?" Belle's brow furrowed. She look over to Freya, who was still focused on the paper.

The blonde witch turned to face her, a curious spark in her eyes. Although she and Klaus bore some of the same facial features, their eyes were still their own. For this, Belle was strangely grateful; if Freya had the same eyes as her younger brother, Belle couldn't guarantee that she would be able to keep herself from staring longingly into them. That would be painfully awkward. "Do you think 'it' could mean your life? Meaning that your life would,"

"My life will end on my birthday: the day it began," Belle interjected, scoffing under her breath. "Seriously? What a bunch of shit."

"I don't think she was lying, Belle," Freya interjected.

Belle shook her head, holding up a hand to silence her. "No, I know that. I just mean that...ugh." She groaned, leaning forward over the edge of the couch with one hand under her chin and the other running anxiously through her curls. "That's so close."

"When is it?"

"February 9th. I'm turning 956. You know, assuming that I'll actually survive the day." She groaned inwardly and put her head in her hands. After a few seconds of deep breathing, Belle got to her feet and looked down at Freya. "Have you found a cure for the curse yet?"

Freya shook her head. "No, Belle. I can't say that I have. I've been rather busy lately for some reason," she snapped, rolling her eyes.

Belle rolled her eyes right back. "Okay, jeez."

The blonde witch let out a sigh and opened one of the tattered old spellbooks she'd brought. "I'll keep looking." Her voice was softer this time, apologetic, almost.

"Why?" Belle couldn't help but ask.

Freya looked up from her reading, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean why are you helping me? I know that I asked you, but it's not like you have any real obligation to do so. I mean, it's like Klaus and I are still together." It physically pained her to force his name through her lips. Even the mere thought of him, of his name, hurt her. But he was always on her mind, especially since the vision. She even dreamt about him, often waking up crying and unconsciously whispering his name. It was both agony and ecstasy. She cleared her throat and continued. "You and I aren't family, so why did you agree to help me? You didn't even know me when you agreed; you barely know me now. Why would you waste your time, let alone your power, helping me?"

The look of confusion vanished from Freya's face and was replaced with what looked like...understanding. "You are family, Belle," she said.

Belle's eyes widened. "Ummm, if you're serious, like we're distant cousins or something, I swear to God I'm gonna loose my fucking sh-"

"No, no. God, no," Freya interjected, laughing. "I just mean that, you may not be family by blood, thank God, but you're family by relation."

"Oh, good." Belle let out a melodramatic sigh of relief.

"I, on the other hand, am family by blood, but not so much by relation," she said. Freya looked away. She looked like she was tearing up.

"What do you mean? Of course you are. Your siblings, your niece and your nephew, they all love you," Belle said, putting a comforting hand on Freya's back, before she shrugged it off. She and Klaus really were two sides of the same coin, always acting braver and stronger than they really felt. Or maybe that was just a Mikaelson thing, a pride thing.

Freya shook her head. "I know that, but it still doesn't make me feel...I don't know. Forget it, okay?"

"You feel like an outsider, right? Like, even though you stay with them, even though you love them, and they love you in return, you can't help but feel like you're not entirely welcome?" She smiled a little, shaking her head. "Story of my life."

Freya smiled a little, before returning to her reading.

Belle's phone buzzed from its place on the table: Hayley had texted her. " _I think I'll take you up on that drink now,_ " it read.

She chuckled under her breath before typing her response. " _It's not even 3:00 in the afternoon. You sure?_ "

Hayley sent back a " _yes_ ".

Belle turned to Freya. "Hey, I've gotta go. Hayley wants to meet me. You can go home, if you'd like. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone."

Freya nodded before getting to her feet to gather her books. "Day-drinking? Is that a part of supernatural motherhood?"

She scoffed. "Yeah, something like that."

They met up at Rousseau's about 10 minutes later. Hayley had already claimed a booth for the two of them and ordered them each a glass of Scotch.

"Hard liquor? For day-drinking?" Belle raised an eyebrow,

"You like Scotch, right?" Hayley asked, sounding almost nervous. She looked like utter hell. Her hair was pulled up haphazardly into a ponytail and her eyes were bloodshot, either from exhaustion or crying, she couldn't tell.

"Yeah," Belle said, nodding. She took a small sip of her drink; Hayley, on the other hand, downed hers in a matter of seconds, signaling for the waiter to bring her another. "You okay?"

Hayley nodded, slowly lifting her eyes to Belle's. "Yeah, I guess."

The waiter came over with a bottle of Scotch and filled Hayley's glass a bit more handsomely than he probably should've.

Belle narrowed her eyes. "That was more of a formality. I can clearly see that you're not. Tell me, what's wrong? Is it Elijah?"

Again, Hayley nodded. "Yeah."

"Well what's wrong? Is it about the wedding? Does he not want to go through with it, or something?" Belle was trying not to press too hard, not wanting to upset her.

"No, it's not that at all. Elijah's actually really involved with the whole wedding thing. He's really excited." Hayley twirled the ring around on her finger, almost like she was debating whether or not she should take it off. This worried Belle; Hayley was acting like Belle had the night she left town. There was no way in hell she was going to let Hayley pull the same shit she had. She wouldn't let her friend throw away a chance at happiness. And she didn't want Elijah to have to feel the way she was sure Klaus had when she'd left. He was a good guy; he didn't deserve that.

"And what about you? Aren't you excited, too?" Belle asked.

Hayley took another sip of her drink – not quite draining the glass this time. "Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I love Elijah, but I'm just...afraid. We're both immortal, so, once we get married, we'll be husband and wife for...forever." Belle could hear the apprehension creeping into Hayley's voice. She had to stop it. She had to put her fears to rest. She refused to let her friend make the same mistake she had made.

"Isn't that what you want? You do love Elijah, don't you?"

Hayley nodded. "Of course I love him." There wasn't an ounce of doubt in those words. Good.

"Okay." Belle nodded. "Just think about that. Don't think about how long forever is, or whether you'll still love him however long down the road. Just focus on right now and how you feel and what you want in the present, not the future, because the future is just...unpredictable." She nearly laughed at that last part. In some cases, particularly in her most recent experience, the future was, in fact, very predictable – frighteningly so.

"Is that why you left? Because you were afraid of the future?" Hayley asked. She seemed calmer now, more collected.

Belle shook her head. "No, I wasn't afraid of the future." It was true. She knew that her feelings for Klaus wouldn't fade; they had only gotten stronger with time. And she had known then that Klaus had felt the same; although, now she wasn't so sure.

"Then what? What were you so afraid of that you had to leave in the middle of the night?"

She hesitated. It became apparent to her that she hadn't told a single living soul why she had left. Not Blade, not Lucien, not Klaus himself. She could hardly admit her own fear to herself. Perhaps it was time to admit it, to divulge the truth that had eaten her alive all those months ago, even if it was just a small piece of it. "The past," she finally said. And she said nothing more on the subject after that.

They stayed in their booth and talking until sunset. As she was walking back to Lucien's, Belle spotted Aurora across the street: a hint of vibrant red hair and a black peacoat. She was talking to a man, a tall bald man. Belle didn't recognize him. She couldn't tell what they were saying; everything around her was too loud. But from the look of things, it looked like they were talking business. Serious business. Aurora leaned in and whispered something to him as she slipped a small piece of paper into the pocket of his leather jacket before turning around and waking the other way like nothing had happened.

As she watched her and the strange man part ways, Belle couldn't help but wonder if her suspicions about Aurora weren't entirety wrong. Perhaps there was, in fact, something off about the redheaded psycho who shared Klaus's bed. Perhaps it wasn't just jealousy that fueled her paranoid and distrust. What was she up to? Belle decided in that moment that she would make it her business to find out.


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N. – I'm very excited for this chapter! Monumental things are coming! Prepare yourselves ;) (Also, I hope you all enjoy a little Christmas in July) As always, please review and enjoy.**

* * *

Song: Mikky Ekko – _Smile_

"The party starts in less than an hour, you know," Lucien said, his fingertips grazing the skin of her bare back. Belle noticed his avoidance of the mark, which continued growing. It was now bigger than her fist and was making its way to the side of her body, threatening to overtake her tattoo of Lilith's name. The darkness was spreading.

Freya had only managed to find out one truly useful thing about the curse: it was like a virus, spreading poison in its wake. Once it finally reached her heart, the poison would rapidly spread throughout her body. And it would be fatal, even for a vampire. Belle found no comfort in knowing the exact date of her inevitable end. It made every day that passed feel too short, like her life was fleeting at the speed of light. But a part of her, a rather dominating part at that, refused to accept her fate. She refused to simply lie down and die. She refused to leave her family, her friends, everyone she'd ever loved, behind.

"Belle," Lucien said, a little louder than when he had first tried to get her attention.

Her head was lost in space, somewhere between heaven and hell. But his voice brought her back to earth. "Yeah?" She turned her head to look back into his eyes, careful not to fall forward off the couch.

"The party, the Mikaelsons' Christmas party, we're supposed to be there by 6:00 and it's already 5:10. Unless you want us to be late, I suggest you get a move on." He placed a light, feathery kiss on her shoulder.

She smirked. "I will when you stop distracting me." A little reluctantly, she turned and got to her feet, snatching up one of the blankets they had been lying under to cover herself as she walked off to her room, partly to tease him, partly to conceal the ostentatious mark.

"You know, I wish I had more friends like you," Lucien called to her as he headed to his own room to get dressed.

She laughed, closing the door to her room as she dropped the blanket and started dressing. She'd already laid out her outfit for the evening: a simple red a-line dress with lace trim and a pair of black knit tights. "Friends who will have sex with you? I've had plenty of those, trust me. It never gets old," she said, loud enough for him to hear.

After zipping up the back of her dress, she headed to her bathroom. She picked up her flat iron from the counter, toying with it in her hands for a moment or two before setting it back on the counter and examined her hair a little more closely than she normally would have. It currently fell just past her breasts in her natural curls. She thought back to when she was a girl, eleven years old. Feeling particularly spiteful, she'd stolen one of her father's smaller blades and cut off her long, curly locks to her shoulders after a fight with her mother, one that had resulted in a rather brutal beating; she'd been caught playing with swords with some of the older boys from her village. Her mother had ranted and raged about how weapons were not things for girls, especially not for girls who had other responsibilities. Of course, Claudia had been furious, but Belle didn't mind; she had quite liked the short hair.

She grabbed a pair of shears from the drawer and hopped up onto the counter so she could sit and get a closer look. She brought the scissors up to the hair by her shoulder and closed the blades around the locks, sending them cascading down into a pile in the sink. She continued until the job was done.

When she emerged from her room, Lucien, standing patiently by the door, turned to her and smiled. "You look beautiful."

She couldn't help but blush. "Thanks," she said, smiling. "We should get going. If we're late I doubt Elijah will let us hear the end of it. He and Rebekah have been planning this all week."

Lucien nodded and they headed out. They put on their coats and Belle grabbed two thick books – photo albums, before she walked out the door. "You've been keeping in touch with them?" Lucien inquired during their elevator ride.

Belle nodded. "Yeah, sort of. Elijah's kind enough to make small talk with me whenever I stop by to see Blade."

"And the rest of them?"

The doors opened. Belle stepped out into the lobby, glancing back at Lucien as he followed at her heels. "Well, Rebekah's been pretty distant. Then again, she and I have never really gotten on well, aside from when we were in Arkansas with Hope. And Kol's never around. I think Hayley wants to mend our friendship though, which is nice. At least one of them is making a real effort."

They stepped outside into the cold night air, the breeze whipping at the lapels of their coats. "What about Klaus?" Lucien asked as he opened the car door for her; Lucien's driver had parked outside for them. He got in after her and closed the door.

"What about him?"

"You said Blade's birthday went well, but you haven't said anything else about Klaus since. I thought you were trying to woo him." She saw him smirk in the dark. The lights from the street and buildings were illuminated in his dark eyes and flashed across his face. "Aren't you still trying to win him over? I'm no expert at romance or scheming, but I'm pretty sure you actually have to spend time with someone if you want to get them back."

She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze to look out the window, watching the people walk past them on the sidewalk. "I know. It's just...I don't want to screw things up. As much as I want to get back with Klaus, I know that his happiness is more important. He and Aurora seem pretty happy together. Maybe I should just leave them alone."

She suddenly turned her attention back to Lucien. He was focusing on her, now looking deeply into her eyes. She noticed the look in his eyes: devotion. And she realized how closely they were sitting to one another, neither buckled in their seatbelt. An honestly frightening thought popped into her head: was he in love with her? She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat so she was closer to the door, farther away from Lucien. "At least for now. Perhaps he'll come crawling back on his own." She smirked, despite the feeling of guilt at the saddened look in Lucien's eyes, and reached into her coat pocket, fumbling with the ring she'd hidden in it, her engagement ring from Klaus.

They arrived at the Mikaelsons' shortly after. The inside of the Compound was decorated immaculately with string lights wrapped around the banisters and a large Christmas tree with dozens of boxes scattered around it. No doubt all the gifts were for the children. The adults of the family weren't too keen on gift-giving. Belle smiled at the thought of Hope and Blade's tiny hands trying to pry open large, wrapped presents.

Klaus and Blade emerged from the hallway. Blade began squirming and squealing happily at the sight of his mother. Klaus set him down on his feet. "You're late," Klaus said.

"Traffic," Lucien said nonchalantly, his face stern, his hands folded.

Belle set the photo albums on the ground as she knelt down to scoop Blade up into her arms. He wore a red and white striped sweater and black slacks. "Don't you look handsome, hmm?" She smiled.

Blade giggled and buried his face in her shoulder, grabbing a fistful of her short hair.

They started walking into the living room where everyone else was; Belle motioned for Lucien to grab the photo albums. He set them down on the coffee table in the living room before making a beeline for the open bar. Belle set Blade down on the floor next to Hope, who was playing with a little racetrack and toy cars.

Belle glanced around the room, taking it all in. Marcel and Audrey stood talking in the corner while Rebekah glared at them from across the room. Elijah and Kol were talking to Lucien by the bar; the tension between the three of them – well, between Lucien and the Originals, was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Aurora sat pouting in the corner; she seemed to be in one of her moods. Freya was sitting across the room on the sofa with a drink in her hand; Belle took off her coat, put it on the coatrack, and took a seat beside her.

"Hey," Freya said, smiling.

Belle smiled back politely. "Well, this party is about ten times more awkward than I thought it was going to be." They both laughed.

Hayley walked in a few seconds later, taking a seat on Freya's other side. She picked up the photo albums from the table that Belle had brought. "What are these?" she asked, turning to Belle.

She smiled. "They're a gift, mostly for you and Klaus, I guess. The top is a photo album of Hope and the bottom is one of Blade."

Hayley's jaw dropped a little, but she snapped it shut and smiled. "Wow. That's great, Belle – really. Thank you." They began flipping through the photos of Hope. "These are gorgeous," Hayley commented.

Belle smiled. "Thanks. I'm kind of a shutterbug."

Just then, a loud howling sound echoed from the courtyard. Everyone stopped whatever it was they were doing and headed for the door. Belle walked past them into the hallway; she had a hunch as to who it was. Colton stood by the tree, laughing to himself and stumbling about. He turned to her and smiled. "Hey, sis. Long time no see." His voice was a little slurred; he seemed drunk, tipsy at least.

She ran forward with more enthusiasm than she had intended to and hugged him tightly before letting go. "Colton! What the hell are you doing here?" she exclaimed, laughing.

He kept a hand on her shoulder to steady himself. "Audrey texted me and told me you'd be here. Figured a little family reunion might be fun."

"Well, it's great to see you," she said.

Audrey emerged from the hallway, shaking her head. "I thought I told you to show up sober, Colt."

He shrugged. "Opps."

Belle spotted Klaus up on the second floor, speaking quietly to his father; she hadn't known that Ansel was back in town.

Just then, Claudia and Cal walked in. Her mother looked pissed off, as usual. Her father, on the other hand, smiled brightly at Belle. "Thank you, Audrey, for inviting us."

Klaus suddenly descended the stairs, Ansel following. He looked irritated. "I'm sorry, but the last time I checked only two Campbells were invited. Where the hell did you lot come from?" He gestured to Cal, Claudia and Colton.

"Relax, man. It's a party," Colton said.

Klaus opened his mouth to speak, but Belle beat him to the punch. "Yes, but it seems you're thinking of the wrong kind of party. It's a little more black tie, a little less backwoods kegger. Maybe tone it down for the evening, okay? Great." She flashed him a grin and headed back to the living room to check on Blade and grab a drink.

As the night wore on, the toddlers opened their gifts. That was probably the highlight of her evening, seeing the sheer joy and wonder on her son's face as he opened each box.

Every other member of Belle's family, besides her father, all but ignored her. So much for a family reunion. She saw Audrey and Claudia sneak off to the next room, but Klaus stopped her before she could follow them.

"It's getting late. The children should go to bed. Hayley's taking Hope and, if you'd like, you can put Blade down for the night. He's always restless when I do it," Klaus said.

Belle nodded, giving him a quick smile. "Sure. You can come if you want. I think he'd benefit from seeing us do something together." That was probably the most obvious excuse she could've thought of to get him alone, but she didn't care.

Once Blade was down in his crib, now dressed in a blue and white onesie with snowflakes on it, he settled in and drifted off to sleep. Belle placed a light kiss on his forehead before taking a look around the room, noticing a new and surprising addition to the wall across from Blade's crib. It was the other Blade, Belle's sword. She smiled, glancing over at Klaus, who stood in the doorway. "You put it in here, my sword."

He nodded. "I did. I'm surprised it took you this long to notice." He chuckled. "It's yours, if you want it back." He took a few steps into the room, coming to stand beside her.

Belle shook her head. "No, it should be here with him." She turned to gaze at Blade while he slept. He looked so peaceful, content. Just like his father. "I was going to give it to him on his fifth birthday, when my father first gave it to me. I mean, I wasn't allowed to use it – we used sticks for training – well, playing, but he wanted me to have it." She smiled. Her father had once been her best friend, her idol. He'd always promised to teach her to fight when she was older, but he never did make good on that promise. She wouldn't let Klaus do that to Blade. Their son was a fighter; he'd proven that before he was even born. She would make certain that he embraced that side if himself, even if she may not be there to see it. Belle swallowed hard and turned to Klaus. "Promise me that you'll give the sword to him. And teach him to use it. He's a little warrior; all warriors need swords." She smiled as she fought back the tears that were filling her eyes.

He nodded, seeming a little confused by her tone; she'd hoped not to sound like she was dying, making final decrees before the clock ran out. But she feared that he saw through it.

Yes, Belle would continue to fight for her life, but she was no fool. There was a very real chance that death would come knocking at her door when her birthday rolled around, and she'd be ready in case it did. She had loose ends to tie.

Without saying another word, Belle headed back downstairs. She quite literally bumped into Aurora on her way back to the living room, causing the redhead to spill her drink on the both of them.

"Seriously," Belle huffed, attempting to reign in her temper; she'd managed to control the urge to tear off Aurora's head so far. "Sorry," she muttered, looking her in the eyes. It was clearly an empty apology, which didn't seem to sit too well with Aurora's already foul mood.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going, Belinda."

"Maybe you should stop being such a cunt, Aurora. Why are you in such a bad mood, anyway? You've been pouting all night. Problem with your meds? Are you having one of your 'episodes'?" Belle spat, smirking. Her temper was getting the better of her and she was debating whether or not she should stop herself at this point.

Aurora, on the other hand, managed to control herself. To an extent, anyway. "You should go spend some time with your family since, you know, they actually came to see you. Perhaps then you'll stop with the little pity party you've been forcing down everyone's throats since you've arrived." So that was it. Tristan hadn't shown up. She'd assumed that such a supposedly virtuous man would make good a promise, especially one made to his beloved sister.

Belle ignored the last comment and decided to take Aurora's advice and spend time with her family before they left town again.

She found the four of them huddled in one of the far room of the house, away from prying ears. The tension between Audrey and the rest of them was practically tangible.

"Secret family meeting?" Belle grinned, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. She slowly walked into the room; their eyes were trained on her.

Audrey crossed her arms over her chest. "Belle, there's something we need to tell you."

"No," Cal interjected. "Audrey, please." He looked desperate – pained, even.

"No, she needs to know. It's been long enough," Audrey said forcefully. "Besides, what would be a better punishment for her than the truth? The truth about the family that she's singlehandedly mutilated time and time again."

A deep crease formed between Belle's brows as she looked from one face to another, "What the hell are you talking about?" A feeling of dread began setting in. "What truth?"

"That's enough," Cal said sternly, his desperation growing. What secret was he trying so hard to keep hidden?

"What truth, Audrey?" Belle demanded.

A menacing smirk played at Audrey's lips. "Cal, my father, the man you spent your entire childhood idolizing, is not your real father."

In that moment, Belle's temper finally got the better of her. She forced Audrey against a wall, pinning her with her arm. "Don't lie to me, sister, out of some petty anger."

"I may be angry, but I'm not a liar. Tell her, father," Audrey demanded. But Cal remained silent, standing with his mouth gaping. He was afraid.

"Why are you so angry toward me? Is it because I left? Because of Sabrina? Because of Max?" She clenched her jaw tightly, resisting the urge to yell, or cry. She didn't know which would come out first. "Because I did what I had to do. I always do what I have to do to protect my family, Audrey. You know that. And Max's death wasn't my fault. Sabrina killed him, not me." A silent tear slipped down her cheek as she stifled a sob.

"But you're the reason he's dead!" Audrey shouted. "You, Belle. You are always the problem. You've destroyed our family and you're hardly even a part of it. You poison everything you touch." Audrey forced her sister back. "Instead of taking your son with you when you left, you should've just left him here, away from you, because one of these days you'll poison him, too." She smiled boastfully, towering above her older sister, like she was proud of herself.

But that was the last straw. What was left of her self control evaporated as Belle punched her sister square in the jaw. "LIAR!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her voice broke as tears began streaming down her porcelain far. "It wasn't my fault! You're lying! All you do is lie!"

Cal pulled Audrey back before she could get in a hit. A pair of strong hands held Belle back: Lucien. He started pulling her towards the door. "Come on, love," he whispered in her ear. "It's over." She'd completely fallen apart at this point, practically collapsing in his arms as Lucien pulled her into the hallway.

She pushed him off of her, anger dominating her every move. "I need to leave, now. Liars, they're all liars. They hate me," she sobbed. "They all hate me." She turned away from him and started walking off, but he caught her arm. She pulled forcefully away, avoiding his eyes, and walked as quickly as she could without running to the front door.

She stopped by the foot of the stairs, gripping the banister with her numb, shaking fingers as she reached up to wipe away the tears from her eyes. The tears were thick and tasted like rust. She looked at her hand through her blurry vision and saw that they were no longer tears streaming from her eyes; she was bleeding. She bolted out the front door, leaving a bloody handprint on the doorknob in her haste.

She ran through the empty streets of New Orleans until her entire body began trembling. She nearly collapsed onto a park bench. Her insides were on fire, but her skin was ice cold. Through the bloody tears, she stared up at the night sky, lying on her back. Little white snowflakes were falling from the blackened sky, trickling down like falling stars. They clung to her hair and the blood on her face.

"No," she whispered. "I have more time. I need more time," she pleaded. "Please."


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N. – Thank you all for the support! It means a lot. Any comments/ideas/questions/helpful criticisms are welcome! I love hearing your thoughts. Also, I'd highly recommend that you listen to the song I've included below; it's so intense and was actually in episode 20 of this season during a particularly dramatic and amazing scene (I won't say which, for those of you who aren't caught up). Sounds like I'm sponsored, right? Haha, I wish! Anyway, please review and enjoy!**

* * *

Song: Hidden Citizens – _Silent Running_

 _She was back in his bed, their bed, on the night that he had proposed. Once again, panic struck her like a bolt of white hot lightening. She sprung to her feet in the dark and tried to flee, but suddenly he was standing over her, looking down with angry yellow eyes. "And where do you think you're going?" Klaus's voice was low, deep – almost demonic. It sent an icy chill throughout her entire body._

 _Unable to move under his iron grasp, she stood before him, helpless and frightened like a deer in the headlights. "I, I...uhhh," she babbled. Her voice was but a whisper._

 _Suddenly her back was up against a wall. She heard it crack under the force of the blow._

 _"You will never leave me. Do you understand?" Klaus's eyes returned to their normal hue, piercing hers. He stroked her cheek gently, shushing her as she began to cry. She stood, immobilized, wishing more than anything that she could pull away from his touch. "You will never escape me," he whispered, leaning in. He placed a series of soft, velvet kisses on the base of her throat, but the action was anything but romantic in her mind. It was like he was marking her as his prey, ensuring that there would be no escape, as he'd said._

 _"Please," she begged in a strangled whisper. Tears stung her cheeks as she peered through them into his eyes. "Please let me go."_

 _This only proved to anger him further; his eyes glowed yellow once again. He bared his razor sharp fangs dangerously close to her throat. "My foolish little love, have I not made my point?" he whispered in her ear. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, but she still felt cold, completely and otherworldly frigid. Suddenly a sharp pain shot through her body. Her heart throbbed as she felt his fist around it. He tightened his grip and pulled back to look her in the eyes, ensuring that his face would be the last thing she ever saw. "Till death do us part."_

 _The searing pain intensified to an unbearable level. A high-pitched scream tore through her lips like a bat out of hell as he ripped her heart from her chest._

 _Belle awoke immediately, drenched in sweat and her eyes stung with unshed tears._

 _She let out a low groan; there was a sharp pain in her back, like a knife piercing her flesh. She got to her feet and stumbled toward the bathroom in the dark, flipping on the light switch. She raised up the back of her shirt in from of the mirror to find the source of the pain. The skin covering her left shoulderblade was bright red, like sunburn. It was hot to the touch._

 _But in the blink of an eye, the redness vanished, leaving only a tiny dark mark in it's place, no bigger than the lapis stone on her daylight ring._

 _"What the hell?" Hesitantly, she ran her fingers over the mark, wincing at the unsuspected pain that followed._

 _Seconds later, she jumped as a faint cry pierced the silence that shrouded her. Blade was awake. After turning off the light, she left to go calm him down._

* * *

Someone was carrying her; she tried to see who, but her vision was blurred by blood and falling snow. Then again, she didn't need to see to know that it was Klaus who had found her. She was conscious, but her mind was so full of fear and unanswered questions that she couldn't think straight.

Suddenly she felt warmer; they were out of the cold, safe in the Compound, no doubt.

"What happened?" Belle recognized Elijah's voice. He sounded worried.

"I don't know. I found her like this," Klaus said. The urgency in his voice masked his fear fairly well, but Belle knew it was there. And she knew that she should be afraid, too. Afraid for her life. But in that moment she just felt numb.

"It's the poison," Freya said. "Put her down." She then listed off a few herbs she needed Elijah to retrieve for her. Belle knew this wasn't her cure; Freya was still looking for the cure, but this would hopefully buy her some time. And Belle would do her very best to hold on. She couldn't let the vision Alexis foretold become a reality, her reality.

Someone wiped the blood from her eyes and mouth – Claudia. Belle pulled away from her touch as her mother's face came into view, nearly falling off the couch as she did. "Get away from me," she choked out. Claudia looked wounded, but did as Belle said, taking the bloody rag and sitting it down on the table.

She turned and saw Klaus standing in the doorway, watching over her like some white knight. "What happened?" Klaus demanded. He sounded angry.

"A curse," Belle said, straining her voice. She coughed up a little blood and wiped it away with the rag Claudia had left. "Freya's been trying to help me figure out a cure for it."

"Has she had any luck?" Claudia asked, sitting at the edge of her seat at the opposite end of the room.

Belle turned to her and rolled her eyes. "Yes. She's had a cure for weeks and hasn't given it to me. We thought death might be more fun," she snapped. Not even death himself could quell her sarcastic side.

"I may not have a cure just yet, but I'm close," Freya said as she reentered the room with some witchy concoction in a glass bottle. "This will slow the poison. It's also a sedative, so you'll start to feel tired once it takes effect." Freya handed Belle the bottle, who took it in her shaking hands and drained it in a second, like a shot of tequila. Only tequila would've tasted much better. She scrunched her nose as the liquid slid down her throat, trying not to openly balk at the taste.

"Thanks," Belle said, coughing a little. A mixture of blood and the liquid rose in her throat, but she swallowed it back down.

Klaus came to stand in front of Belle next to Freya, while keeping his distance. He whispered something to Freya, but Belle couldn't make it out. Then he cleared his throat and turned to Belle. "What happened?"

Belle pulled herself up into a sitting position. Her body was slowly trying to mend itself, but she knew neither it nor Freya's witchy herbal brew could stop to poison from spreading. But, for the moment, she felt alright. "Oh, you know, if you piss off enough people in you life one of them is bound to retaliate, eventually."

"Do you know who did this?" Elijah's voice came from the doorway. He stood with his arms crossed, not quite looking worried, but not quite calm. Just indifferent.

She scoffed. "No. Tracking down the bastard who cursed me hasn't exactly been number one on my to-do list. I'm a little more preoccupied with, you know, staying alive." She wiped away a drop of blood that trickled down from her nose. "That and Blade, of course. He deserves a good mother for as long as he's gonna have one." She couldn't help but laugh. The thought that she might actually die soon was still so surreal.

"Do you want me to bring him to you? I can go get him," Claudia said. Belle resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. Her mother was trying far too hard to make up for what had happened earlier – well, that and for keeping such a monumental secret from Belle for her entire life. But her true parentage was the least of her concerns, for the time being.

"No, it's fine, mother. I don't want him to see me like this. Just let him sleep. Actually, can you all just go, please. For now. I'm getting really tired, and I'd like to sleep in peace." Belle laid back down on the sofa, stifling a cough.

Everyone moved to leave – everyone but Klaus. "What are you doing? Shouldn't you, I don't know, be with Aurora or something?" Belle asked.

There was a something in his eyes, but she couldn't tell what it was. He wouldn't look her in the eyes.

"Someone should be here, just in case you need it," he said, motioning for Elijah to leave. She heard the door close behind him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Klaus scoffed. "You're cursed, and yet you ask me what's wrong?"

"Nik," she said softly. "You look upset. Why?"

His eyes were narrowed, his brow furrowed; he was worried. Was he worried about her? "I...I know who cursed you," he said.

This peaked her attention, pulling her from the cloudy, tired feeling that was slowly pulling her toward sleep. "Who? Tell me," she demanded eagerly.

Now he looked scared, which worried her immensely – even more than her current situation did. Klaus was rarely scared, and when he was he certainly didn't show it. But he made no attempts to hide his emotions now. His lips parted and two earth-scattering words slipped out from them, his voice but a whisper – a hesitant, almost fearful, whisper. "I did."

"What?" Disbelief couldn't do justice to the feelings that stirred inside her very soul. "You did this to me?" A dozen different emotions flooded her mind. She burst out laughing uncontrollably – not because she found it funny, because she didn't. She was in shock, to say the least. "Are you fucking kidding me? You cursed me to death? Oh my god! How did I not see this?" Thanks to the adrenaline that coursed through her veins, she got to her feet. The laughter subsided. "But, of course, I should've seen this coming. No one betrays the great Klaus Mikaelson without paying for it with their life."

"I didn't have a choice. I didn't know where you'd went, so I needed to give you some incentive to return, to bring back my son." He was getting angry. She could see a storm brewing in his blue-green eyes, but it paled in comparison to the hurricane in hers.

" _Your_ son? God, you are much a self-centered egotistical asshole! You don't give a damn about anyone but yourself. Anyone who's not your family means nothing to you. When you get mad at them, you just shove a dagger in their heart for a few decades until you get over it, but you just kill anyone else who hurts you. So, I guess I'm not your family." Tears filled her eyes, and it took everything in her to keep them from falling. She didn't want to look weak; she already felt so vulnerable, so exposed. For the first time, she was bearing her very soul before him. Eight centuries of pent up rage came pouring out like a dam had burst. "You refuse to let anyone in. You just shut people out and lock yourself away. You did that to me for over 800 years, Niklaus. Do you have any idea what that's like, to devote yourself and your life entirely to someone and for them to give you absolutely nothing in return? Because I do! I forsook my own brother time and time again for you! I chose you and your family over him."

Klaus tried to butt in, but Belle wasn't having it. "No! If I am going to die, then by god I will get out all of the shit that I've been carrying with me for centuries! Okay?" She was so overcome by emotion that she didn't even realize that she was bleeding again. Blood dripped from her nose, clinging to her cling and staining her lips red in its path. "And now he's dead. And I can never make that up to him. The last conversation we had was an argument about my stupid decisions and choosing you and your wretched family over him, my own blood. And, you know what? He was right. You are poison, and the thought of actually becoming one of you, of bearing your last name, was so sickening that I ran away because I refuse to let you continue to poison me, to poison our son, because everyone and everything you touch gets destroyed! But, guess what, you don't get to control everything. You don't get to decide when and how I die!"

In that moment, irony decided to rear its ugly head as Belle began uncontrollably vomiting blood. It was pouring from her eyes, ears, mouth and nose. She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe.

Freya rushed in as she collapsed to the floor, dropping an armful of things onto the table as she ran over to Belle. "Get her on the couch!" she demanded, grabbing onto Belle's arm.

Klaus looked reluctant and angry, to say the least, but did as he was told. He turned to leave, but Freya grabbed his arm. "You have to stay. I need your blood for the spell."

"And why should I help her? You heard what she said." He pulled away obstinately.

"Yes, but I seriously doubt you want your little boy to grow up without a mother because she bruised your ego. Grow up and help me, or she won't live to see the sun rise."

Klaus opened his mouth to speak, but closed it seconds later, giving in.

Freya grabbed an injection needle from the table; it was filled with the same herbal concoction she had given Belle earlier. She jammed it into Belle's chest and injected her. She took what was left of the mixture and poured it down her throat, covering Belle's mouth with her hand to keep her from spitting it out. The bleeding slowed and Belle could breathe again.

"You'll need to unzip your dress. Thanks to the tip from Niklaus, which would've been much appreciated weeks ago, I've found the cure. The spell was in one of our mother's old grimoires." Freya turned to glare at her younger brother before returning her attention to her friend.

"Fantastic," Belle mumbled. Freya helped her unzip her dress, exposing her torso. The blackness was now wrapped around her side, covering her tattoo. On her chest, there was what looked like a large, dark bruise where her heart was: it was the poison. It had reached her heart. How fitting – Klaus had turned her once pure heart black.

"We need to act now," Freya said. She got to her feet, picking up a bowl and a pure silver knife from the table, and grabbed Klaus's hand, slicing open his palm so he would bleed into the bowl. She swirled the blade in the blood, murmuring some Latin incantation as she did. Once that was done, she turned to Belle. "Now comes to painful part."

"What painful part?" Belle asked in a small, strangled voice.

"We need to cut away the mark, carve it out of your skin and purify your blood with that of the one who cursed you." She didn't seem particularly happy about the idea of inflicting pain, something that certainly separated Freya from her siblings. Belle was sure Klaus was absolutely delighted at the thought of carving into her like a Thanksgiving turkey; she was surprised he didn't offer to do the deed himself.

Belle nodded. "I've been beaten, broken, killed, cut, burnt, and endured the horrors of child birth – twice, in my life. Trust me, I think I can handle it." She heard Klaus scoff at her hubris from his spot by the door. "Go ahead," Belle said, ignoring him.

She took off her bra and covered herself with a blanket. Belle laid down on her stomach so Freya could do what had to be done, bracing herself as the blade inched closer to her skin.

Once the blade pierced her flesh, Belle became very aware of what Freya had meant by calling it the "painful part". The magic infused in the knife burned her like the touch of the devil himself. She screamed in blinding agony as Freya dug in, carving away at her flesh. She could feel the hot blood pouring from the wound onto the sofa, seeping into its fabric and the fabric of the blanket. Out of all the pain she had ever felt in her long life, this was by far some of the worst. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to muffle her screams, digging her nails into the cushions of the couch, trying to no avail to take her mind off the pain.

Suddenly it stopped. She felt Freya pour the blood, Klaus's blood, into the wound while she recited an incantation. It was searing for a moment, then soothing. The burning in her veins vanished. It was over.

Exhausted, Belle remained motionless, crying both tears of pain and of joy.

She heard Freya's footsteps as she left the room. Listening closely, she heard her talking to Klaus. She didn't know if they knew she was listening. Maybe Freya wanted her to hear. Maybe Klaus didn't care.

"You didn't have to help her," Klaus said.

"Of course I did. I've seen the way you look at her, brother. Even now, under the anger ad disdain , I see just how much you care for that woman. Did you think I would sit idly by and let her die? She's family, whether you're willing to admit that or not. And what would you have done if she had actually died? That blood would be on you hands, and you would never forgive yourself. And what would you have told Blade? Would you tell him that his mother died because she hurt your feelings?"

"She's done a great deal more than that, Freya. She betrayed my trust. She took what was mine, and, for that, she had to pay a price." His voice lowered. Perhaps he suspected that she was listening, and he didn't want her to hear what he had to say next. But she heard it anyway. "I didn't want to do it, but I did, alright?" Belle heard him walk away after that.

Her strength somewhat restored, she pulled herself into a sitting position. She dressed and wiped away the tears and blood from her face before getting to her feet, and grabbed her coat from the coatrack by the door. She took the ring out from the pocket once she put the coat on, toying with it as she walked.

On her way out, she spotted Klaus as he headed upstairs.

"Hey," she called to him. He didn't turn to face her, but he stopped, listening. "Just so you know, I'm not sorry. Not anymore." She was sure he knew exactly what she meant. She was referring to the note she'd left for him on the night she'd left New Orleans. " _I'm sorry. – B_ " it'd read. Because back then she had been sorry for hurting him, but no more. This time she had to hurt him; she had to shatter his heart. Not because she was angry, which she was. Not because he had tried to kill her. She had to break his heart to protect him from her. She had to make sure that every trace of love he had for her was completely erased.

He turned, slowly, to face her. She could see the hurt in his eyes. The pain only intensified when she held up the diamond ring, the light from the Christmas tree illuminating it. She made sure he saw exactly what she was holding, giving him a moment to register what was happening as she threw it on the ground before she turned and left.

On the walk back to Lucien's, she used that time to regain her composure. He couldn't see her like that – unhinged. When she entered his penthouse she found him pacing the floors, anxiously awaiting her return. Lucien rushed over to her, grabbing her by her forearms and pulling her to him. "What happened? Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. In fact, I'm cured." She forced a wide, convincing, smile – even managing to choke out a laugh. "I'm not going to die."

His face lit up like the Mikaelson's Christmas tree. "That's fantastic! Are you sure? You are sure, right?"

Now was the time to start lying her ass off. She had to lie, and lie well. Again, Belle nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. The vision, the one Alexis foretold, it was coming true. I was sure I was going to die, but I didn't. Freya saved me. I'm not going to die." She threw in a few joyful tears to make her performance all the more convincing, thankful that she'd never shown him the vision. Otherwise he would've seen through her lie about it coming to pass.

Relief washed over Lucien's face. Without hesitation, he pulled her to him and kissed her. It was then that her question was answered, the question about the veracity of his feelings for her. Yes, he was in love with her. Completely and irrevocably in love with her.

But she knew she would never feel the same way. She'd given her heart away 835 years ago, and she knew that she'd never get it back.


	13. Chapter 13

**A.N. – WARNING: This is a long-ass chapter! I guess I got a little carried away, but hopefully you guys will enjoy it! Please review and enjoy.**

* * *

Song: Marina and the Diamonds – _Savages_

It was 11:00 a.m. on the dot. Claudia had agreed to meet Belle at that exact time for brunch at Rousseau's. The day before, Belle had received a series of obnoxious and rather lengthy voicemails from her mother in which she practically begged Belle to give her a proper chance to explain everything, including who Belle's real father was. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious, so she decided to hear her out.

Blade sat in a highchair to her right, nibbling on a beignet as he stared out the window, watching the people pass by on the sidewalk.

Claudia walked in moments later, heading straight over. She put her handbag down in the booth and climbed in after it. "You're here early," she commented, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"I like to be punctual." Belle took a sip of her mimosa, offering the second she'd ordered to her mother who politely turned it down. "Going sober at last, are we? Fantastic," Belle said with false enthusiasm.

"Well, it's certainly about time. Perhaps you should take a page from my book," Claudia said, smirking into her cup.

Belle laughed halfheartedly. "Oh, not a chance in h-e-double-hockey-sticks." Claudia raised an amused eyebrow before Belle provided a quick explanation. "I'm avoiding using actual swears around Blade since an unfortunate incident in which he called his Aunty Beks the b-word."

Claudia chuckled, tossing her grandson a loving look. He smiled back at her, sucking the powdered sugar off his fingers.

"So, now that you're here, how about you start talking?" It came off harsher than Belle had meant, but she was impatient and, to be honest, still a little angry.

Claudia swallowed hard, sitting her mug down in the table, nodding politely and muttering a "thank you" to the waitress who came by to refill it. "Well, I guess I should answer the most obvious question first, about who your real father is."

"I'd say that's a good place to start," Belle muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Claudia gave her an annoyed look before continuing. "His name was Brant. He was your fa – I mean, Calhoun's older brother."

"So that would make Cal my uncle?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Brant and I were childhood friends, and our families were very close. He and I were betrothed from a very young age, and were supposed to marry when I was sixteen." Her eyes wandered from Belle's to the window, staring out absentmindedly as she was swept away by the memories. "But things didn't quite go as planned. You see, before we actually got married, I found out that I was pregnant with you. We didn't tell anyone, of course. You were our little secret." She smiled at that. And Belle couldn't help but smile too. It was nice, the thought of her mother actually wanting her. It was something she'd never known. "Your father, Brant, he was a very talented warrior. Just days after we learned of my pregnancy, he and all the men in our village were called away to battle." Her face changed; the smile dissolved and was replaced with a frown. "He didn't come home. His brother, Cal, brought your father's body home to us, along with Brant's final wishes."

This peaked Belle's interest. "And what were these 'wishes'?"

Claudia returned her gaze to her daughter's. "He wanted Cal to take his place as my husband, to raise his child – his son, whom he wanted to name Eric. There wasn't a doubt in Brant's mind that the gods wouldn't bless him with a son. I guess he would've been shocked when they gave him a beautiful baby girl, instead. But, he would've been happy all the same." She smiled. "Brant was so happy when I told him about you. He was a very strong, temperamental man, but he had the biggest heart of any man I've ever met. He loved you and he only wanted what was best for you."

"Which is why he wanted his brother to raise me, to ensure that his child would grow up in a happy, loving family." Belle's voice was laced with thick sarcasm, courtesy of Her sour mood. "He wanted me to be raised by a liar and a bitter alcoholic."

Claudia seemed very offended by the accusation. "No," she snapped. "He never wanted that. But, after your father died, I just...I lost myself. I was stuck being married to a man I didn't love with a daughter who reminded me every day of what I'd lost." Instead of opting for anger, as Belle had predicted, Claudia seemed to grow sadder. Tears filled her eyes, but she held them back. "You were always my favorite. I saw in you a piece of your father's spirit, his fire. Someone capable of both great strength and compassion. That's why I was always so hard on you, because I was angry at him for leaving me."

"It's not like he had a choice. He died, mother. He didn't leave you," Belle said, reaching out to grasp her mother's hand in an attempt to comfort her.

Claudia pulled away. "But he did. Whether or not he meant to is irrelevant. He left me alone with a man I didn't love and a baby he'd promised to help me raise. He broke every promise he'd ever made to me, and I hated him for it."

"He never meant to hurt you. You know that." Belle felt something for Claudia that she had never felt for her before: sympathy. "It's not like when Barron left me after I told him I was pregnant." She took a sip of her mimosa; just saying his name out loud made her sick.

Claudia's melancholy mood subsided a little. "Wait, Barron? That's who got you pregnant?" She scoffed, surprised.

"Shocked? Bet you didn't think your brat daughter could get the chief to fall for her, did you?" She laughed, splaying out her arms as she sarcastically boasted, like getting that disgusting excuse for a man to sleep with her had been some accomplishment.

"He was twice your age! And married! His eldest son was two years older than you!" Claudia laughed out loud. "We were going to have you marry him, you know?"

Belle snorted. "Marry the son of the pedophiliac asshole who'd seduced me at the age of thirteen? Sure, that's not awkward at all." They were both laughing at this point.

It all made sense to Belle, her entire childhood. She suddenly saw her upbringing in a whole new light. The reason her mother had been so hard on her. The reason why her "father" had sat idly by and watched. She understood it all now. Although she'd already forgiven Claudia for the mistakes she'd made during her childhood, she decided to extend that forgiveness to the rest of her family for keeping that secret from her. She knew that they'd never meant to hurt her – especially Cal. She gave her mother a look, a wordless signal of her forgiveness. Despite everything she'd been through in her life, every upset, every heartbreak, every bruise, she'd made it through. No amount of resentment could change the past, so she cast it aside and let it blow away.

"Did I mention that I love your hair?" Claudia asked, smiling.

Belle scoffed. "That's not what you said the first time I chopped it all off."

"Well, I like it now." She took another sip of her coffee. "You've always been a beautiful and strong girl. I don't think I tell you that enough."

They exchanged a smile, followed by a moment of comfortable silence. The compliment meant more to Belle than she'd ever let anyone know.

Belle cleared her throat. "I wish I could've met him, Brant," she said, smiling as she turned to gaze at her son. "Things would've been so different if he'd been my father."

Claudia nodded. "Very different, indeed," she agreed. Claudia reached out to stroke her grandson's cheek.

Belle couldn't help but see the similarities between her mother and herself. Two women broken by love, taken off guard by circumstances that were beyond their control. However, she also noticed the differences in how they'd reacted to those circumstances. While her mother had searched for solace in unrelenting anger and at the bottom of ever bottle she could get her hands on, Belle had found it in her daughter, and now she found that same comfort in her son. He was her sanity, the anchor that kept her from getting swept away in the storm that was coming.

After brunch Belle walked back to Lucien's, pushing Blade in a stroller. Lucien was on the phone when she arrived, but he said a quick goodbye to the person on the other line and hung up when he saw her come in. She smiled brightly. "Hey," she greeted, moving to unbuckle Blade from the stroller.

"How was brunch with your mother? From the sobriety and lack of blood stains on your clothes, I'd say fairly well." He smirked, walking over to her with his hands in the pockets of his black slacks.

She chuckled, setting Blade on his feet. "It was fine," she said. Blade trotted over to a pile of crayons and coloring books he'd left in the floor and sat down, picking up a red crayon and scribbling away at a picture of a dog.

"Just fine," Lucien inquired as he laced his fingers through hers, holding her hands in his.

"Well," she started, smiling as she moved a little closer to him. "She told me about my father, my real father. His name was Brant."

"Brant? Nice name," Lucien mused.

"Yes, very. He was Cal's older brother, betrothed to my mother before he died. Basically Cal took his place, per my father's dying request."

"So, your brothers and sisters are both your half-siblings and cousins? How..."

"Disgusting? Weird? Complicated? Yes, I know." She laughed, closing what little space remained between them with a kiss. The kiss was deeper, sloppier, and lasted a bit longer than she'd meant it to; she had to pull away before things got too...physical. Particularly because her son was sitting just a few feet away, not that he paid them the least bit of attention.

They parted, both a little out of breath, and smiled. "So, any plans for tonight? It is New Year's Eve, after all," Belle asked, releasing his hands.

Lucien shook his head. "I have to go scope out a few lots for my company. You, on the other hand, just might have plans for this evening."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He took an envelope from the table by the door. "This came for you. I haven't opened it, but I'm assuming it's some sort of invitation. You always seem to have parties to attend." He grinned, turning to walk away. He resumed his seat on the sofa where his laptop was open on the coffee table.

"Don't sound so jealous," she playfully scolded. Belle sat at the dining table where Blade was coloring and opened the envelope. Sure enough, it was an invitation to a party.

"Who's it from?" Lucien asked, glancing up from his work for a moment.

"It's from Tristan," she said, surprised. He had even written a note for her inside the card that read: " _You are invited to attend a New Year's celebration at the Daville Estate, 7041, St. Charles Avenue. The festivities begin at 10:00 this evening. I do hope you can come. – Tristan_ ". She scoffed. "Apparently, I've been invited to some posh New Year's party at the Daville Estate. Lovely."

This peaked Lucien's interest. He looked almost concerned, but seemed to shake it off. "Are you going?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. On one hand, spending the evening with Richie Rich and his snobby, pretentious friends sounds incredibly dull and boring, but, on the other hand, I wouldn't mind getting the chance to annoy him for the evening. Besides, he and I have a few things we need to discuss." She smirked, putting the paper in her pocket as she walked over to Blade, scooping him up and setting him on her hip.

"Regarding?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Just rehashing old business, primarily about his relationship with my now deceased brother. There have always been things left unsaid between us, and I've gotten into the habit of exposing and then dispelling the bad blood from my life."

That evening, Belle dropped Blade off at the Mikaelsons' with Rebekah so she could get ready. Lucien seemed put off by her desire to spend the evening with Tristan, a man whom he'd never liked, given their rather colorful past. But Belle didn't let him sway her. In the end, she got her way.

Lucien left just before sunset to attend to some work, leaving Belle alone to get ready. She straightened her hair, applied some bold eye makeup, and put on a strapless navy jumpsuit with a deep v-neckline and a pair of black stilettos. She left Lucien's at 10:00 exactly, deciding to show up fashionably late.

She took a cab to the estate, which was wide awake when she arrived – as was the rest of the city. Music could be heard from the street and every light in the building was on. She moved through the towering crowd by the doorway, thankful for her choice of four-inch heels that gave her just enough height to not drown in a sea of silk gowns and tuxedos. Clusters of string lights were hung, waiters walked around with trays of champagne, and a group burlesque dancers swayed to the music. This party was certainly better than the ones Tristan had thrown in the past. Perhaps someone with real taste had had a hand in the planning.

"Belinda, there you are," Tristan boomed as he crossed the floor to her, extending a flute of champagne politely. "I'm so glad you could make it." He smiled graciously, but she saw right through his facade. He'd never liked her, and he knew that she knew it.

"What, and miss all of this? You always did throw the most immaculate parties, Tristan." She took the drink from him and took a quick sip. She wrinkled her nose for dramatic effect and scoffed obnoxiously. "Though you could've invested in some nicer champagne."

He narrowed his gaze, his calm facade faltering for a second. "You're as...candid as ever. Enjoy the festivities, friend. And you'll be pleased to hear that my sister will not be in attendance this evening. She's ringing in the new year with your ex."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Swell. Thank you for having me, friend." She downed the rest of the glass, placing it on a waiter's tray as they crossed paths on her way to the open bar. "Bourbon, neat," she told the bartender.

Leaning back against the bar, she nursed her glass as her pale blue eyes scanned the room. A figure dressed in red caught her eye. "Hayley," she called to the woman.

The brunette hybrid turned around, meeting Belle's gaze. She smiled and approached her. "Hey, Belle. What are you doing here?"

"Tristan invited me. I'm guessing you're here with Elijah."

Hayley nodded. "Yeah, but I lost track of him, actually." She scoffed, running her left hand through her curls. Her engagement ring caught the light as she did so. "You haven't seen him, have you?"

Belle shook her head. "No. I just got here, actually. You wouldn't mind hanging out here with me, would you? If there's one thing I hate, it's not having a date to one of these things." She scoffed at how pathetic she sounded, and took another drink of her Bourbon. In the past, even when they were just friends, Klaus had usually been her date to these sort of events, and when he couldn't go or when he had a date, Max would go with her. She felt odd being there completely alone.

Hayley nodded. "Sure. Did Lucien not want to come with you? I mean, aren't you guys sort of a thing?"

"Yeah, well he had some stuff to do," Belle said dismissively, waving her hand. "It's fine."

Elijah walked over to them, almost glaring at Belle. "There you are," he said to Hayley, placing a quick peck on her cheek before returning his attention to Belle. "What are you doing here?"

"Relax, Elijah. Tristan invited me, personally. I'm not here to spoil your night. Despite popular belief, my life does not revolve around your family." She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze to stare out absentminded at the crowd.

"Yes, well from what I understand, the past, what, 800 years of your life have been utterly wasted following around my 'wretched family' like the lost puppy you've pretended to be. I'm glad to see that you've finally outgrown us." He didn't even attempt to mask his anger toward her. She knew how out of line it had been for her to openly insult Klaus's entire family when he was the only one who'd deserved it. However, she also knew that a simple apology would never do for Elijah. Words were meaningless to him; he preferred action.

She was reminded of a line from Alexis's premonition: "for actions, not words, will decide your fate." Although she still had no idea what "actions" it referred to.

In that moment, she opted for action over words, and walked away, leaving her drink on the bar. She figured she was better off leaving the argument than staying and perpetuating the cycle of hurt she and Klaus had gotten into.

She was back in the ballroom when Tristan clinked a metal fork against his champagne glass, calling for everyone's attention.

"Thank you all for joining me tonight in our celebration. The Strix and I have much to celebrate this evening, aside from the coming of a New Year." His eyes met hers as he slowly descended the staircase. The crowd around Belle suddenly backed away, leaving her exposed. "You see, tonight is an initiation." He motioned to Belle. A deafening applause followed his words. "Belinda, if you'd please, step forward."

Her eyes narrowed, her brow knit, her lips pursed. "I'm sorry, but what the fuck is happening? What 'initiation'? Your invitation mentioned nothing in regards to an initiation." She used finger quotes when saying " _initiation_ ", emphasizing the absurdity of the situation.

"Your invitation into the Strix, of course. We think you would make a great addition to our organization, assuming, of course, that you'll pass the test we've set in place," he said.

"I never agreed to this. And I have no desire to join your elitist cult, thank you very much. I won't be taking any test, either." She approached Tristan, glaring daggers at him. "Do you understand me?"

"I'm afraid that's not an option," a voice said from the crowd, a woman's voice. Belle didn't recognize it. She turned around and was met with a striking, tall woman. She had dark skin, short hair, and a statuesque build. She wore an elegant metallic dress and matching heels, which clicked against the wood floor with each determined step she took. The room fell silent. "You see, the test began as soon as you entered this building, and your arrival served as your acceptance of our offer."

Belle crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "I'm sorry, dear, I didn't catch your name."

"Aya," she said, smiling boldly, unintimidated.

"You'll notice that someone in this very room had taken something rather personal from you: your daylight ring," Tristan said.

Belle looked down at her right hand; he was right. How has she not noticed earlier? That ring hadn't left her finger since the day Klaus had given it to her. "Who took it?" she angrily demanded. "I swear to god, I will,"

"Please, please. Relax, darling. You'll have your ring back soon enough. All you have to do is deduce the culprit by midnight, confront them, and conquer them," Tristan said, holding up his hands as a gesture of peace. But Belle saw his actions as anything but; this was a declaration of war against her. She'd be damned before she'd join the Strix.

"And if I don't want to join?" She raised an eyebrow.

"It's quite simple. You defeat the culprit and join our ranks, or you fail and die." Tristan's expression hardened. "You join us or you die. There is no other option." He looked down at his watch. "You have just under and hour and a half until midnight. I suggest you get to work on finding out who took your ring if you have any desire to make it out of here tonight."

In the years since they had met, Tristan DeMartel's heart had turned to stone. Granted, he had never been a particularly benevolent man, but when he and Max had been together, he'd seemed happy. He smiled, he laughed, he doted on his sister and on Max. Of the two siblings, Belle had actually preferred Tristan. Mostly because of how happy he'd made Max, even if he took that happiness from time to time. Either he or Max would get bored or fed up, and they'd leave. Often it had been Tristan who'd done the leaving. Belle resented him for that. She hoped that it was he who'd taken her daylight ring, just so she would have a valid excuse to tear off his head.

"Tick-tock, my dear." Tristan smiled sadistically before telling everyone to return to the party.

The night dragged on endlessly; Belle was honestly more stressed out than she'd been in years, maybe even centuries. She had half a mind to ask, beg, Elijah to step in and tell Tristan how ridiculous he was being, but she doubted he would even lift a finger to help her. Nor would he allow Hayley to help. If he did step in, it would probably be at the last possible second.

She stood by the bar, not drinking, as she had done for the past hour. Midnight drew closer and closer; her anxiety was rising with each upward tick of the minute hand on the clock. There were at least five clocks in the room, all taunting her in unison. She wanted to scream.

She ran from the room, mid-panic attack, trying to find some place away from prying eyes. She was the main event tonight, and, for once, she had no desire to be the center of attention. She found a sitting room on the first floor toward the back of the house. Before she entered, she heard a voices coming from behind the closed door. She stopped in her tracks and pressed her back against the wall, listening in.

She heard Tristan's voice; she hadn't seen him since his announcement earlier that evening. "Don't worry, I've got this under control," he said. Belle peered in through the crack between the door and the doorjamb, seeing Tristan sitting alone in a chair with a phone to his ear.

Who was he talking to? She listened closely, almost immediately recognizing the sound of the other voice: Lucien. What was he doing talking to Tristan? They hated each other. Perhaps this was the "business" Lucien had needed to attend to.

Her heart sank in her chest, slipping through the cracks between her ribs as it fell to the floor. She had so desperately wanted to trust Lucien, but how could she when he was conspiring, or doing...whatever it was he was doing with Tristan? Was there no one she could trust? Furthermore, what the hell was he doing with Tristan? She knew without question that Tristan's intentions were anything but pure, so what, pray tell, were Lucien's? She found herself questioning if he was even really in love with her. She realized then that in order to beat whatever storm was coming her way, she couldn't trust anyone. Just herself. Klaus's perpetual paranoia suddenly didn't seem to outrageous.

She couldn't tell what Lucien was saying, and seconds later she heard Tristan dismiss him with a quick, "I understand," before hanging up. She quickly headed back to ballroom before he left the room and found her lurking.

The rest of her time evaporated; suddenly, the clock chimed at midnight and the whole room cheered, erupting in celebration. Couples kissed, people clinked glasses, and Belle wanted to throw up. The knot in her stomach tightened as Tristan approached. She looked around the room desperately, meeting Elijah's eyes. Hayley hung in his arm, nearly stepping in, but Elijah held her back and whispered something in her ear.

"Have you come to a decision?" Tristan asked, smiling wickedly down at her. The room fell silent, awaiting her response.

"Yes," she said, trying her best to sound confident. She knew that Tristan certainly wouldn't have her ring; neither would Elijah or Hayley. There was only one other person she had actually met at that party, so she decided that they must be the culprit. "Aya," she said, flashing the woman a confident grin. She nearly wept when Aya grinned back, pulling out Belle's daylight ring from behind her back.

"Very good. How did you come to that conclusion?" Aya stepped forward, handing the ring to Tristan, who slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Belle scowled at him, but returned her gaze to the thief. "I figured that, knowing Tristan, he wouldn't be foolish enough to entrust such a delicate task to just anyone, that he'd opt for his right-hand-man, or woman, in this case."

Aya seemed unimpressed, looking Belle over like she was sizing her up, trying to determine the best and fastest way to end her. "Shall we?" Aya gestured to the hallway. A small group was already heading that way, while the rest headed for the exit.

Trying to mask her apprehension, Belle flashed a confident grin to her opponent and strode toward the back room.

It was smaller, secluded. She felt claustrophobic. She spotted Hayley and Elijah among the crowd of onlookers. Hayley tried step in again, but Elijah held her back and said something to her that Belle couldn't make out. She glared at Elijah, who met her gaze.

"Let's get started, shall we? All you have to do, Belle, is win," Tristan said. He didn't even bother to hide the contempt in his voice; he knew she couldn't win. And that's where she intended to prove him wrong.

"I'm ready when you are," Aya said, opening her arms, welcoming the challenge.

Belle smirked. "Thank God I didn't wear a dress tonight."

She made the first move, attempting to kick Aya in the shin, but Aya disappeared, moving behind Belle. She kicked her swiftly in the back, knocking her forward. Belle nearly fell to her knees, but she caught herself, and turned around, clocking Aya right in the jaw. She felt the bone fracture under the force of her fist and smirked smugly.

But her moment of pride as short-lived when Aya punched her in the face and shoved her backward, sending her entire body flying through a wall into the hallway. She was nearly knocked out as her head smacked into a bookcase. Aya appeared before her, grabbing her by the arms, spinning her and throwing her back into the room. "Is that the best you've got? I expected more of a fight from a Viking," Aya taunted, standing over Belle as she lay motionless on the floor, trying to catch her breath.

"Oh honey," she said, taking a deep breath as she got to her feet and kicked off her heels. "I'm just getting started." She punched her foe in the gut before hitting her in the face.

They tossed each other around the room multiple times, each getting in a few solid hits here and there, until Aya managed to gain the upper hand. She picked up the leg from a broken stool and cracked it on Belle's kneecaps, bringing her quite literally to her knees. Belle cried out in pain. She looked out desperately at the crowd, meeting Elijah's eyes. She could've sworn she saw him move forward, attempting to step in and help, before Tristan moved to stand in front of him.

Aya grabbed Belle by the chin, lifting her head up look her in the eyes. She pointed the sharp end of the wooden chair leg at Belle's heart, smirking wickedly. "Do you have any final words before I end you?"

"Yeah, I do," Belle said, darting her tongue out to lick a drop of blood from her bottom lip. "Tell my brother I said hello when you see him on the Other Side." Belle jumped up to her feet, shoving Aya against the wall by her throat. The whole room gasped as she shoved her fist through her opponent's chest, latching onto her heart. Without hesitation, she ripped it from her chest. Aya's body slumped against the wall, falling to the floor as Belle released her hold on her.

She turned, Aya's heart still in her hand. "Well, it looks like I've won."

"So it seems," Tristan deadpanned.

Belle stepped towards him, keeping Aya's heart firmly in her grasp. "You know, I don't understand what Max ever saw in you." She smiled as Tristan's face hardened. "I mean, come on. You led the poor man on for centuries. Time and time again, you would push him away. But sooner or later you'd come crawling back, usually when you'd locked Aurora away; you never wanted to be alone. And you always gave him just enough to keep him interested. But I digress."

She now stood just a foot away, gazing up to look him straight in the eyes. "You should think twice before threatening me. Do you understand? Given our past, I would so hate to end you," Belle said.

She smiled and brought the heart up to her face, putting her lips around one of the exposed valves and sucking it like a juice box, draining what blood was left. She laughed at the disgusted look on his face and the gasps that resounded throughout the room. The heart slipped from her fingertips and fell to his feet, narrowly missing his expensive leather shoes. She pulled the handkerchief from his pocket – along with her daylight ring, wiped off her hands, and put on her ring. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I'm afraid I must be going now." She stuffed the soiled rag back into his jacket pocket and patted his chest.

"I take it, you will not be joining our organization," Tristan said.

She nodded. "Not a chance in hell." She picked up her shoes and headed out, keeping her head held high. "Happy New Year, chumps."


	14. Chapter 14

**A.N. – Thank you guys once again for the follows and reviews! I'd also like to thank Wikipedia for helping me with a bit of research for this chapter, even though it makes my internet history paint me as a bit of a sadist. xD Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

On the way back to Lucien's, after a lengthy argument with herself, Belle had decided not to confront Lucien about the phone call she'd overheard. She wasn't sure who she could trust, so she thought it'd be best to keep him in the dark. After all, ignorance is bliss, right? Keep him out of the loop, keep him happy. Just keep lying. She'd gotten pretty good at it recently. As long as she thought of it as "acting" rather than lying, it wasn't so hard.

Now, a week later, Belle was holed up in Lucien's bathroom, perched topless on the counter with her feet in the sink with a tattoo machine as she re-did her tattoo of Lilith's name on the left side of her rib cage since the original one had been cut off with the mark. She'd added one of Blade's name to the side of her right hand earlier that morning just after Lucien left for work. She hummed to herself to fill the silence; the only other sound in the entire penthouse was the low hum of the tattoo machine.

She was just finishing up when a knock came from the door – the bathroom door. Who the hell had gotten into the house? She realized then that she'd neglected to lock the damn front door.

"Belle?" It was Rebekah.

"Yeah?" Belle asked, setting the machine down on the counter.

Without asking permission, Rebekah opened the door, practically barging in with some sense of self-entitlement; Elijah was right behind her. They both groaned and looked away, more annoyed than embarrassed, at the sight of half-naked Belle – not like the three of them hadn't accidentally walked in on one another like that before.

"Could you please put on some bloody clothes?" Rebekah groaned.

Belle shrugged before pulling on her t-shirt. "What? I didn't say 'come in'. And you're the one's who showed up unannounced and uninvited, anyway. That's technically breaking and entering." She hopped off the counter, ushering them out of the bathroom. "Why are you here?"

"We were looking for Lucien. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you? He's your...friend, after all." Elijah didn't even try to hide the irritation in his voice.

Belle rolled her eyes. "He had work. No idea where he is, though. And could you drop the attitude already, drama queen? I'd really appreciate it," she snapped.

"What are you two bickering about?" Rebekah asked. It seemed she hadn't overheard Belle's angry rant back at the Compound – namely the part about the Mikaelsons being "wretched" and how she'd basically just crapped all over their family name.

Elijah was many things, and prideful was definitely one of them, particularly when his family and their honor were involved.

"Perhaps you didn't overhear Belinda's rather loud rambling on Christmas, but it appears that after all these years of loyalty, she has decided to renounce our family, despite everything we've done for her."

"I'd hardly call bearing my soul 'rambling', and what exactly have you done for me that I couldn't do for myself?"

"Oh, I don't know – perhaps when we took you and your brother into our home, despite the fact that you were virtual strangers. Or when we had daylight rings made for you. Not to mention, when I, personally," Elijah stopped when Rebekah raised her hand.

Rebekah crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "Okay, that's enough of that headache. I don't give damn about whatever ungrateful crap you spat at Niklaus the other night. What I care about is the fact that someone is dropping bodies all around the quarter," she said, getting things back on track.

Belle's brows knit together in confusion. "And you think that somehow Lucien is involved with these killings?" Her voice was coated in disbelief with a hint of amusement, but inside she was genuinely curious. Perhaps that's what Lucien was doing when he was called off to "work" randomly. He was the boss, after all. No one told him what to do. She scoffed for good measure. "I think I would know if he was going around the quarter carving up the locals."

"Humans aren't the ones being targeted," Elijah said. "It's the vampires who are under attack – the Strix, to be exact. Two bodies have been found this week. The victims were found with their hearts torn out and a particularly...familiar disfigurement."

Belle raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Pardon?" What "disfigurement" did he mean, and why would that make him suspect Lucien?

"Both victims were marked with a certain wound that I believe Lucien is quite familiar with: their faces were cut from the corners of their lips, ear to ear," Elijah elaborated, putting his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored pants.

"You mean a Glasgow smile?" Belle asked.

"You've heard of it?" Elijah inquired. He was probably adding her to his mental list of suspects. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Belle nodded; she knew exactly what it was. She wasn't going to withhold information now, especially when it was her head on the chopping block. Besides, she had nothing to hide. "It was a popular torture technique used by English street gangs back in the day. What the hell does Lucien have to do with it?"

"Forgive me, I assumed Lucien had given you some detailed story regarding his history with Tristan DeMartel. I suppose I was mistaken." His words were filled with contempt. Belle rolled her eyes. Elijah paced the floor while he spoke, eyes scanning Lucien's room in a particularly snoopy way. "Despite the colorful story of its origin, that method of torture has been used for many, many centuries – e.g. France in the 11th century. You see, shortly before his execution, Tristan tortured Lucien using this method in particular, among many others, of course."

"And you think Lucien's taking down Tristan's fellow Strix, an organization – might I add, that you created, as some sort of millennium-old vendetta?" She scoffed, running her hand nonchalantly through her hair.

"Are you suggesting that I am somehow involved in this brutality?" He stopped pacing, looking her straight in the eyes with a particularly serious, not to mention suspicious, expression. She had poked the bear, and the bear really didn't like it.

She melodramatically gasped with faux shock, bringing a hand up to her lips and looking at him with wild, wide eyes. "Why, I would never. Don't be absurd." She laughed.

He and Rebekah stared at her with narrowed eyes; Elijah looked particularly perturbed.

"Now is not the time for your particular brand of sass. This is a serious matter, and I'd like to think that you would treat it as such," Elijah snapped.

Belle let out a long, defeated sigh. She could tell they needed to be properly convinced, so that's just what she'd do. She had to get Lucien off their radar – even if she wasn't entirely certain of his innocence, and she definitely had to clear her own name. She had bigger things to worry about, like solving Alexis's damn riddle. Perhaps she'd pay her a visit soon. "Fine. Come and have a seat so we can talk this out like adults," Belle said, trying not to seem too annoyed.

She headed for the living room and took a seat in one of the chairs, gesturing for the two of them to sit on the couch. They did so without a word. Rebekah sat down and crossed her legs, appearing calm and relaxed, while Elijah sat on the edge of his seat. Belle frowned a little, upset by his utter distrust of someone he'd known for so long, someone who'd spent a great deal of her life under the same room as his family, someone whom he'd once considered a friend – to some extent, anyway. But now he looked at her with blatant disdain like she was some enemy to him and to his family.

She poured herself a shallow glass of Bourbon from the bottle on the table, offering one to them. "Would either of you care for a drink?"

Rebekah scoffed, pursing her lips. "It's barely 11 a.m."

She shrugged, raising the glass to her lips. "Alright. More for me, I guess." She sipped her drink while Elijah began the interrogation.

"I'd like to briefly address your barbaric behavior at the Strix New Years Eve party last week," he said. There was a distinct edge in his voice.

"Specifically?" she asked, playing coy. She knew exactly what behavior he was referring to.

"Aya," he said. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes that was almost hidden under anger.

She raised an eyebrow. "You knew her?"

"Yes."

"Intimately?"

"That doesn't matter," he said, rather defensively. So that's a yes. "What does matter is the fact that you murdered someone who just so happened to be one of the most elite and powerful members of the Strix. In fact, she helped me a great deal with its founding." He paused, sitting up taller, running his hands over his slacks to smooth out any wrinkles. "Not to mention your particularly gruesome desecration of her...remains, behavior that's not unlike what we've seen with these murders. I can't help but connect a few unsettling dots."

Belle openly laughed at this. "Oh, Elijah. I have absolutely nothing against the Strix, other than the unfair terms under which Tristan placed me that night, practically forcing my hand. What I did was nothing more than a melodramatic way of showing those pompous asses, no offense, that I'm not to be trifled with, that I'm not a pawn in their sadistic games. You see, I'm a firm believer that a display of strength and power is the best way to show your enemies where they belong: under the heels of your fabulous boots." She smiled to herself, satisfied with her rebuttal, and took a swig of her drink. "And for the record," she added, pointing an accusing finger in his direction, "I thought this interrogation was about Lucien, yet practically all you've done so far is implicate me."

Elijah exhaled deeply. She knew from the look that flashed across his chocolate-brown eyes that he knew she was right. "Alright then. Rebekah, let's run through the questions Marcel prepared for Lucien." He turned to his younger sister, who smiled, satisfied. Belle knew that Rebekah always enjoyed being included on these sort of endeavors, even if she was too proud to admit it. It gave her a sense of purpose. She and Belle we're alike in that way; they'd both rather be in on the action than sitting on the sidelines twiddling their thumbs.

After answering every question, most of which had to do with if she knew where Lucien was at whatever time and what he was doing or if he'd ever mentioned a certain individual. Luckily, she had answers – true answers, for every question. It seemed to put their minds at ease, and hers as well. She wanted to trust Lucien. Elijah and Rebekah stood to leave. Belle walked them to the door and opened it, thanking them for stopping by as a formality; their visit, in truth, had been more of an inconvenience than anything. But a part of her – a rather large part, still enjoyed being around them, even under unpleasant circumstances. Familiar company was always the best company.

As Rebekah headed over to the elevator, Elijah turned to Belle, lingering in the doorway. "I have one final question," he said, keeping his voice low. He looked her straight in the eyes.

She nodded. "Of course. What is it?"

He darted out his tongue to wet his lips before he spoke. "Do you trust him – Lucien?" Elijah asked.

Again, Belle nodded. She prepared herself for yet another lie, knowing that he had to believe it. She knew a simple "yes" wouldn't do. She had to sell her supposed faith in Lucien. So, she opted for a response she knew he'd believe. "With my life," she said with conviction, holding his gaze.

Elijah nodded, his hand slipping from its hold on the doorway. "Alright."

"Come on, Elijah," Rebekah said impatiently as the elevator dinged and opened. She entered the confined space, holding the door for him.

"Thank you for your time," he said formally before turning to catch the elevator with Rebekah.

Later that evening, Lucien returned looking especially annoyed and a bit disheveled; his tie was loosened and his hair looked like he'd spent a considerable amount of time anxiously raking his fingers through it. But when he saw her sitting on the couch, staring up absentmindedly at the ceiling, he visibly relaxed. She'd been to the gym earlier to blow off some stream with a few of Marcel's hopeful future-vampires and was trying desperately to unwind. Belle found herself wishing that she could let go of her problems as easily as he did.

"Hey," she said to Lucien without actually sitting up to look at him.

He walked over to the couch and took a seat beside her. "I hope your day was better than mine," he grumbled, bending over to take off his shoes. He then removed his jacket and tie, tossing them carelessly on the floor.

She shrugged. "It started off alright. I redid my Lilith tattoo and gave myself one of Blade's name," she said before showing him the elegant text on her right hand. "But then I was paid a rather nosey impromptu visit by Rebekah and Elijah."

Lucien turned to her, his face scrunched in confusion and concern. "What did they want? I thought you were done with the Mikaelsons."

"Well, as you know, one is never truly done with the Mikaelsons. But, to answer your question, they weren't here for me. They were here for you."

"For me? Why?" He turned his body to face her more fully, looking her straight in the eyes. Belle had to admit, those eyes were almost as alluring as their owner.

She let out a long sigh and slouched in her seat, trying to come off as casual as possible, like she suspected nothing, while her brain teemed with uncertainties. "They had some questions about two Strix members that were murdered this past week. Apparently there was something they believed connected you to the victims."

His face contorted as his gaze fell. He was angry. "What was the connection?" His voice was low and stern. Belle found herself starting to believe Rebekah and Elijah's accusation. Maybe he really did kill them.

"They said each victim was cut ear to ear," she said.

Slowly, Lucien returned his gaze to hers. His expression had changed; he looked almost...afraid. "So they told you about what Tristan did to me?" His voice was just a whisper. It was strange to see him so vulnerable.

"Yes." She nodded, trying to reach out and grab his hand, but he pulled away.

"It's one of the many, many reasons I despise that pathetic excuse for a man," he spat venomously. His hatred for Tristan had never been more apparent in the time that she'd known him.

Hesitantly, Belle decided to voice one of her many burning questions. "Did you do it? Did you kill them?"

He shook his head. "No, but I believe someone is trying to frame me. Maybe Tristan himself. What did you tell them, Elijah and Rebekah?" He tensed up, waiting anxiously for her response.

She reached out and took his hand; this time he let her, wrapping both his hands around hers. "I told them the truth, that you had nothing to do with. They asked about times and places for the most part, and since I was with you at all of the times they mentioned, they cleared you as a suspect." She purposely neglected to tell him about their suspicions about her, again working to keep him in the dark.

Relief washed over his face, another reminder of his undying faith in her. "Good. The last thing anyone needs is a Mikaelson for an enemy."

Belle chuckled. "Yeah, you're telling me."

He relaxed again, leaning back against the couch and wrapping an arm around Belle, pulling her close. "So, I was thinking that maybe we should go out sometime."

She laughed. "Isn't that a little redundant?"

He shrugged, smirking. "Perhaps, but I think you deserve to be taken out on a proper date."

Belle couldn't help but smile. It was nice to feel wanted again, to feel loved. Even if she didn't return his feelings. She nodded and put her head on her shoulder. "I'd love that."


	15. Chapter 15

**A.N. – I'll keep this short and sweet. Please review and enjoy! Thanks.**

* * *

Two years Belle and Max spent with them: Lucien, Tristan, and Aurora.

Max and Tristan became good friends, very good friends, in fact; it was years before Max revealed their hidden romance to her. Belle tried to befriend Aurora, time and time again over the centuries, but found it to be a virtually impossible task. Aurora was defensive, envious and demanding – particularly when it came to her brother. Over the years Belle had come to understand one persisting truth about the DeMartel siblings: together, they were lethal, cunning and utterly diabolical. They did whatever they had to in order to survive. In a way, Belle admired that. However, there was a time in her life when she had, in truth, feared the two of them.

Nevertheless, she and Max had stayed with them. Belle's only reason for not demanding their departure from the bunch was Lucien. He was one of the first people she'd encountered who had shown her respect and genuine kindness; it had been decades since she'd had a friend; for this, she was immensely grateful.

Lucien had introduced her an entirely new way to live. He'd helped her learn to curb her thirst for blood, shown her how to properly cover her tracks after a kill, even hunted by her side. But there was one thing for which she could never repay him, one thing that she was beyond grateful for: he had taught her how to enjoy her life again. After everything she had been through – being shunned by her family and abandoned by the man she'd once loved, being turned into a monster, being faced with the death of her only child – Belle had found herself in a very dark, very deep hole. It had once seemed impossible to escape, but Lucien had thrown down a rope and pulled her up and back into the light. The feeling of finally being able to breathe again was indescribable.

Now, centuries later, Belle found herself questioning why she and Max had ever left them. Of course, she knew exactly why they had left. But she wondered if, perhaps, she had made the wrong choice. Yes, Tristan and Max had been sickeningly happy together. Yes, she could've learned to deal with Aurora. Yes, she had found a true friend in Lucien, but it was what else she had found in him that scared her away, something she feared. Although her relationship with Lucien was nothing more than both a distraction from Klaus and a way for her to keep tabs on him, there had been a time when her feelings for him were very real.

And now she was lying on her back on the floor of his penthouse, watching her son play with his toys just a few feet away.

She found herself glancing Lucien's way as he sat on the couch on his laptop, pondering what might have been if she'd chosen to be with him. If she had stayed with him she may have never met Klaus, which meant that Blade would have never been born, a thought that made her wince. She moved a little closer to her son so she could reach out and run a hand over his sandy curls as if to show her gratitude to the universe for her little miracle.

However, she couldn't help but think about how different her life would be if she had never met the Mikaelsons, never met Klaus. Despite the fact that they had put her through hell and back time and time again, she didn't regret her time with them – at least not as a whole.

Belle was looking at Lucien once again as her mind wandered and he caught her staring, turning and smirking at her. But he said nothing; he just smiled, shook his head, and returned to his work.

"Mama," Blade mumbled, waddling over with his little blue velveteen bear in his hand. He let out a high-pitched laugh and flopped on her stomach, keeping the bear in his grasp. "Go," he said, pursing his lips and furrowing his barely-visible brows.

She chuckled, resting a hand on his back. "Go where?"

"Go," he repeated, laughing at the confused expression on his mother's face. "Go go now."

"Where, sweetie? Mama needs to know a place before she can take you anywhere." She propped herself up on her elbows, looking into his dark brown eyes which sparkled with amusement, probably at her blatant confusion. "Hmm, how about a walk? Do you want to go for a walk?"

He nodded as he chewed on one the stuffed bear's arms; she could see him trying to smile behind it.

Belle stood, picked up Blade and set him on her hip. She turned to Lucien who was also getting to his feet. Without saying a word, he turned and went into his – their, room and closed the door behind him, turning to glance at her before the door shut.

His phone buzzed from its spot on the coffee table. She took a glance at it to see who had texted. It was Alexis. She'd sent him an address and a time: the Palace Royale Hotel, suite 401 at 6pm. It was currently half past 3:00. Belle made a mental note of the address, deciding to pay the seer a quick visit before her secret meeting with Lucien. Belle needed to take another peek into her future, only this time Lucien couldn't be involved. She needed a clearer picture regarding what threat loomed over her.

At the front door, Belle put a coat on Blade and strapped him into his stroller before shrugging on her own jacket. She grabbed her phone and purse from the table and left, announcing that they'd be back soon, assuming Lucien was listening.

Despite the cool winter chill, there were plenty of people strolling through the Quarter. Through the sea of faces, Belle spotted a fairly familiar one: Ansel. He stood on the opposite side of the road, blatantly staring at her, or maybe he was staring at Blade. Politely, she waved at him. He waved back halfheartedly, but made no attempt to approach them. Belle looked away, frowning, and continued on. It seemed like every member of that family had decided to write her off. She hoped for Blade's sake that Ansel would stick around; he needed a grandfather, a _real_ one.

The thought of her own father, or rather her uncle, popped into her head, but she quickly repressed it. She was in no mood to even consider confronting him, though she knew that she'd have to do so eventually. Maybe Audrey could arrange something, assuming that she hadn't decided to write her off as well.

Belle and Blade soon arrived at the Palace Royale. She hoped that Alexis was actually there and willing to share her gifts once again. After a quick elevator trip to the fourth floor, Belle pushed the stroller to the first door – room 401, and knocked. Thankfully, she found Alexis standing on the other side.

"I knew you'd come," she said bluntly, eyeing Belle and her son. "Cute kid."

"Yeah, he really is." She forced a laugh and a smile, fidgeting anxiously with the handle of the stroller. "Listen, I came her because," Belle began, but Alexis beat her to the punch.

"Because you need a favor. You want me to show your future again so you can see the true threat that faces you," Alexis interjected, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips; she was just as spiteful and blatantly bitchy as before. "And you don't want me to tell Lucien. I know. I saw it before you got here. You can't get anything past a psychic. I thought a woman your age would be smarter than that."

Belle's expression hardened as she bit back her own snarky remark before she continued. "Yes. So will you help me? As I'm sure you already know, I don't have time to play games."

Alexis pondered Belle's request for an unnecessary amount of time, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, making the wait all the more agonizing as she muttered "hmm" to herself, before finally nodding. "Fine. I'll help you."

Relief washed over Belle, drowning out the growing urge to slap the obnoxious witch across the face. "Thank you," she said smoothly. Alexis stepped out of the way as Belle pushed the stroller in and closed the door behind them.

Belle moved in front of the stroller and bent down to look at Blade. His nearly-black eyes were filled with the light of innocence and wonder, the kind that had once filled Belle's eyes a child before the world and snuffed it out. "This won't take long, okay? Mama's gonna drop you off with Aunty Freya after this."

Blade just smiled and chewed on his bear, content. He was always content.

She moved to stand out of his line of vision, not wanting him to see her feed on Alexis. "Shall we?" She turned expectantly to the witch, taking a few steps closer. Alexis met her in the middle, tucking her thick hair behind her ear to expose her neck; without hesitating, Belle sunk her aching fangs into her jugular. As the hot blood slid down her throat, her mind was flooded with images and her ears were filled with Alexis's premonition.

 _"Death_ _waits for no one, for in a single month she will come, cloaked in darkness and driven by envy. Prepare you will, but you won't be ready. Death does not come alone, but in threes. Whether they be noble, paranoid, or loyal, their foolish plans will soon be foiled. A weapon of destruction will end you all – friend, foe and family alike. One will not make it through the night. Trust must be earned and bridges must be burned, or both houses will be torn apart."_

Belle saw a lone figure walking off into the night as snow fell. She saw the haunting red eyes that had been revealed by the last vision. She saw the faces of her family, both the Campbells and the Mikaelsons. She saw her own bloodied hands and her distorted reflection in a shattered mirror.

She felt cold when she pulled away – not physically, but a deep, internal chill, like a ghost had just walked straight through her. Now not only her life was at stake, but also the lives of the people she loved most. Everything was at stake.

"Is that all?" Alexis snapped, staring down at Belle with an annoyed expression.

"You tell me." Belle folded her hands behind her back and started pacing, tossing a quick glance at Blade to make sure he was alright. Perhaps his life, too, was on the line, even Hope's. Belle knew that she couldn't leave anything to chance; she needed to know everything Alexis knew, to see everything Alexis had seen.

Alexis rolled her eyes. "If that's all that I conjured from you, then yes. That's all. Do you need anything else? I'm meeting Lucien at 6 and I don't think you want him to find you here."

Belle stopped pacing, her anxiety letting up a bit. "Of course," she agreed, turning to face the witch fully, locking eyes as she smiled, pale blue staring into dark brown. "Thank you for your time and cooperation. I won't forget it." She turned around, starting to wheel Blade's stroller toward the door.

"It won't sit well with him, you know, you coming here to see me. Lucien believes wholeheartedly that he can trust you, but if he were to find you sneaking around his back, well, I'd like to think that would damage that trust." There was a distinct, shameless lilt in her voice, almost like she was goading Belle.

Belle turned back to face Alexis, frowning. "Well, I guess you'd better keep your mouth shut," she snapped, glaring. "It would be an absolute travesty to waste talents like yours."

Alexis scoffed. "Your threats are pointless."

"Who said I was making a threat? I'm simply advising you not to go down a particularly dangerous path." Belle's fingers flexed around the handle of the stroller as she felt her temper flare up. She needed the witch's word that she wouldn't tell Lucien about her visit, or about the vision. His trust was far too important to lose.

Alexis glanced down at Blade, smiling at the sweet toddler. "You really do have a beautiful child. It'd be a shame if he had to grow up without a mother."

"Is that a threat?" Belle demanded through clenched teeth. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as her more primal instincts rose to the surface, waiting to take over.

The witch simply shrugged, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "No, but it may very well be his future, and yours. You've seen what I had to show you. Your days are numbered, they have been since you started hanging around Lucien. And now you've involved yourself in his plans, his diabolical plans." A menacing laugh slipped through her lips.

"And I'm guessing you won't tell me what 'diabolical plans' he has in store?"

"Not a chance. I have no intention of dying at Lucien's hands," Alexis replied. "And I don't plan on dying at yours either."

Belle could see it in her eyes: Alexis was loyal to a fault. Of course she would tell Lucien; her life was on the line. But so was Belle's, and she wasn't going to risk it for some prognosticating witch with an attitude, regardless of her gifts. It was a shame, though. Alexis could have come in very handy.

She turned the stroller around to keep Blade from seeing what she was about to do, and took a few steps toward her target. "Maybe you didn't plan it, sweetheart, but it's sure as hell going to happen." Belle barred her fangs and lunged for her. However, before Belle could even touch her, Alexis hit her with a spell, making her heart throb and her nose bleed.

"Like I said," Alexis said before throwing Belle into the wall with her magic. "You're not going to kill me. I've seen a thousand different ends to this confrontation and I always come out alive."

Alexis reached to pull out the wooden stake she'd hidden in her jacket; Belle took full advantage of this minuscule opportunity to strike. She knocked the witch to the ground and jammed her thumbs into her eye sockets, blood drenching her fingers. Alexis let out a loud, agonizing wail, and Blade started crying. Without hesitation, Belle used her hold on Alexis's head to snap her neck.

She got to her feet, wiping her hands with the now dead woman's shirt, and went to soothe her screaming son, reminding herself that she'd done the right thing. Not only for herself, but for him.

After compelling one of hotel's security guards to erase the video footage of Belle's visit, and dropping Blade off with Freya at the Compound, Belle headed back to Lucien's, planning to stall him so he wouldn't meet Alexis. He couldn't find her body, at least not now; he could easily implicate Belle. He may trust her, but she seriously doubted he trusted her that much. Hopefully she could convince him that the person who killed her was the same one who had framed him for the Strix murders, something she herself would love to know.

Lucien was about to leave when Belle pushed open the double doors. She smiled brightly and looped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to kiss him. "Hey."

He kissed her back lightly, seeming distracted, like his mind was somewhere else. She wished she knew what he was thinking. "How was your walk?"

"It was nice. I dropped Blade off on my way back since the weekend's over. The last thing I need is Klaus on my ass about keeping his son from him." She rolled her eyes for extra emphasis. "Where are you off to? It's late."

"I'm supposed to meet with someone, a potential client," he lied smoothly. He was good; she had to be better.

Belle pursed her lips, shamelessly pouting, trying her best to look upset without being too obvious.

"What?" He asked. He looked concerned. It was working.

"Nothing. I just thought...forget it." She pulled away, attempting to walk around Lucien, but he caught her arm and spun her around to face him.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" He sounded distraught. Belle suppressed the urge to smirk; it was working.

She let out a deep sigh. "I thought we were supposed to go out sometime."

"Well we can do that later. But right now I have to go," he urged her. His meeting with Alexis must have been important.

She had to take it up a notch. Belle pushed him away, a little too forcefully, and went to pour herself a drink. "Fine, go then. I don't give a shit," she mumbled into her glass of Bourbon. Her face contorted in faux anger and frustration.

She heard Lucien let out a sigh and his footsteps as he walked over to her; she was wearing him down. "I know I promised that we'd do something soon, but this is important."

Now was the make or break moment. Belle worked up some tears and turned to face him with sad doe eyes. "No, I get it. Your work is very important. I'll just stay here by myself, like I always do. It's not like I have anywhere else to be or anyone else to be with since my friends and family all hate me. I'll just be alone again. It's fine, I'm used to it." She worked in a choke at the end.

She saw the look in his eyes as she broke him: guilt. Lucien took his phone from his pocket and typed out a quick text (to Alexis) before returning his undivided attention to her. He wiped the tears from her cheeks and kissed the places they had been. "Alright. I've postponed the meeting. Now let's go out; I know just the place."

Belle smiled brightly, genuinely, which worked perfectly with the little game she had just played, and _won_.


	16. Chapter 16

**A.N. – So, I'm leaving home for college (freshman year) this week, which is both exciting and terrifying. (Shoutout to FanFicChikk, my real-life friend, who will be suffering through with me) I'm majoring in English (emphasis on creative writing) and minoring in Entrepreneurship, in case anyone is curious. Anyhow, my uploads may be less frequent because of the new workload and everything else, so I apologize in advance for my inevitable slacking. Fanfiction is still something I enjoy and will continue to do! Thanks for reading this lengthy and personal note.**

 **Moving on, this chapter will entail a bit of what's happening with the trinity, which I'm telling through Lucien (but still in 3rd person). Please read, review, and enjoy :)**

* * *

Song: The Neighbourhood – _Everybody's Watching Me_

*Belle*

 _Thin, sharp branches scratched the delicate skin on her face like the claws of some hungry predator as Belle ran through the forest to the stream, her mother's angry screams fading the farther away she got. She had done something bad, very bad. In a moment of anger, Belle had raised a hand to strike Claudia when she had threatened to hit her youngest sister, Sabrina. She'd tried to slap the wretched woman straight across the face just as she had done to Belle countless times over the years – although the slaps were among the least painful of her punishments. The sweet taste of blatant rebellion was almost worth the brutal beating she had just endured. The deep cuts on her back stung as though the switches she had been beaten with were laced with venom._

 _Once she reached the stream, Belle knelt down beside the water, dipping her hands into the cool water and splashing it on her face, wiping away the dirt and tears from her porcelain skin. Her eyes were red and puffy, still burning with tears. She tried to swallow her sobs and slow her erratic heartbeat, taking slow, deep breaths. The scent of the trees and dirt mingling with the fresh water was comforting, familiar._

 _Belle heard a twig snap behind her, followed by a gravelly, disembodied voice. A man's voice. "It's not safe for a young girl to be out all alone."_

 _Her head whipped around, her eyes meeting his. They were a stormy gray shade, like the sky before a storm. He had long, sandy blonde hair that hung down just past his shoulders in loose waves. He was tall and muscular. She recognized him: Barron. He was the chief of their village, a well-respected warrior, friends with her father. Belle stood, dumbfounded, staring up at him with wide eyes and parted lips._

 _"You're Cal's eldest, aren't you? Belinda?" he asked cautiously approaching her like the frightening doe her eyes made her look like. "I don't believe we've formally met. I am Barron."_

 _"I know who you are," she blurted out, her voice breathy and much higher than usual._

 _"Good," he said. His eyes darkened as he got closer to her, fixated on the bloody cuts down her back and the rips in her dress from the beating. "Who did this to you?"_

 _"I, I can't say. She wouldn't like it if I told you," Belle said quietly, as though Claudia were standing right behind her, breathing down her neck._

 _He frowned, making the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes more prominent. "Did your mother do this? Did she beat you?"_

 _Belle nodded. Tears started to slip down her face again. Her lips trembled as she spoke. "I deserved it. I tried to strike her, and a child should know their place. I should know my place."_

 _Barron knelt down in front of her on one knee, his face now at her level. He put one hand on her shoulder and the other cupped her cheek. His touch was warm; she started to relax into it. "Your place is not beneath her, Belinda. The next time she lays a hand on you, you hit her back, harder. Do you understand me?"_

 _She shook her head, avoiding his eyes. "I can't. I'm too weak."_

 _Barron lifted her chin so her eyes met his. "I can change that. I can teach you to be strong."_

Belle woke up in tears. She was back in bed with Lucien, her body intertwined with his. Luckily, he was a deep sleeper. Her nightmare hadn't roused him. She wiped the tears away and carefully pulled away from his hold.

She pulled herself up and turned to let her feet hang off the edge of the bed, her toes grazing the cool wood below. According to the digital clock on the nightstand, it was 3:42 in the morning. Her head was swimming with overwhelming emotions, prominently guilt over murdering Alexis. Lucien wouldn't take it well, that much was obvious. The real question was whether or not he would think it was _she_ who murdered his revered seer. Maybe she could convince him that Tristan did it, two birds, one stone – well, three birds if Aurora retaliated and Lucien was forced to kill her, too.

In an attempt to drown out the obnoxious voices of reason, a Belle got up and left the room, heading to the guest room where most of her things were, including her paint, brushes, easel, and a few spare canvases. Painting wasn't her favorite kind of media, but she decided to take a page from Klaus's book and try to both clear her mind and plot her next move.

She really missed him in that moment.

* * *

*Lucien*

Lucien awoke to an unwelcomed phone call from one of his informants. Alexis was dead! How could this happen? His only way _, their_ only way, of knowing what was coming was now gone. Lucien sent a quick to text to Tristan and Aurora regarding the situation and set up a meeting at the docks. It was 8 in the morning and Belle was sound asleep beside him; he decided not to wake her, and left quietly.

His driver took him out to the docks, stopping to let Lucien out next to Tristan and Aurora's cars. Tristan stood with his hands in the pockets of his coat, leaning against the hood of his silver Mercedes, a deep scowl etched into his face. Aurora, on the other hand, appeared to be perfectly at ease, looking out at the Mississippi. The early morning sun reflected off the water, giving it a warm pink glow.

Tristan and Lucien exchanged a wordless glance before Lucien spoke up, clearing his throat in a failed attempt to gain Aurora's attention. "We need to find out who did this," he said, his voice was deep and his expression was stern. The authoritative façade seemed to mask the anger that brewed just underneath the surface.

"And I suppose you wouldn't have any suggestions to offer us, Lucien," Tristan said, spatting out Lucien's name like it was a swear. "Seeing as Alexis was under your protection, you should be the one held responsible for her death."

Lucien rolled his eyes and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "The only one who should be held responsible for what happened to Alexis is the one who murdered her. Do we have any leads?"

"None so far. I'm afraid there's no security footage of that day for the hotel. Someone must have erased it," Tristan said.

"Or someone compelled one of the hotel's security guards to do it," Aurora added. "Whose bright idea was it to _not_ have them all on vervain, anyway?" She turned to face Lucien, her face was scrunched up like it always did when she was angry.

Lucien's expression softened when his gaze met hers. "I didn't think it was a necessary precaution at the time. One of my men was supposed to be watching her at all times."

"Perhaps we should pay a little visit to this man of yours," Tristan snapped.

"I'll take care of it later," Lucien said. "Right now our focus should be deducing the identity of the murderer."

Aurora scoffed and let out one of her trademark chuckles, the ones she liked to use when she was being condescending. "It's quite obvious, isn't it?"

"What is?" Lucien scowled.

"My darling Lucien, how could you be so blind? Perhaps your feigned feelings for her have blinded you to the truth." She smirked wickedly at the two men as she watched them register her words, her accusation.

Lucien frowned. "Belle didn't do this. She was with me last night. Perhaps you should pay more attention to what's going on under your own nose instead of pointing fingers like a child," he snapped at Aurora, taking a few steps closer to her.

"Nik wouldn't hurt Alexis. He's never even met her, unlike Belle," she shot back, her angered expression returning.

"How can you be so certain?" Lucien scoffed. "You barely know the man, despite what you may think." Although he would never admit it out loud, Lucien had always been jealous of Klaus, even before Klaus had stolen not only his first love, but also his second.

"Enough, both of you," Tristan nearly yelled, stepping in between them. "Your lovers' spat can wait for another time, one of far less importance and preferable one in which I have no part." He held up his hands. "Now," he started, his voice calmer now, "we have much to discuss. Without Alexis we have no way of telling what moves the Mikaelsons may make against us. However, we must continue with our plans. Time is of the essence."

After the meeting, Lucien arrived back at his penthouse just as Belle was getting up. She opened his bedroom door dressed in his burgundy button-down shirt from the previous night, which was practically a dress on her. He couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight. She met his gaze and smiled brightly. "Morning," she said.

He remained silent, trying to figure out what exactly to say. He didn't want to outright accuse her, like Aurora would have, but he had to admit that Aurora had a point. Belle was one of the only people outside of the three of them (himself, Tristan, and Aurora) who had even met Alexis. Despite certainly being the kind of person to gouge out someone's eyes, Klaus had no idea who Alexis was or what she had been capable of; he couldn't have done it. But there was a chance that Belle could have. After all, she had been out of his sight for hours the day before, despite what he had told Tristan and Aurora. Perhaps he would ease into it, or ask her without actually saying the words.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. His silence must have given it away that something was amiss.

Lucien exhaled, meeting her concerned eyes, and spoke, "Alexis is dead."

He heard it just as clearly as if she had said the words aloud, as clearly as if she had shouted her confession from the rooftop: Her heart skipped a beat.


	17. Chapter 17

**A.N. – Sorry for the delay. Here's chapter 17! Please review and enjoy :)**

* * *

Song: Denmark + Winter – _Don't Fear the Reaper_

"Alexis is dead." The words sent ice coursing through her veins as the words came from his lips, numbing her from her fingertips to her toes. She breathes deeply in an attempt to calm the telltale beating of her heart; she could feel it start to beat too quickly, just a bit irregular. And if she could tell, so could he.

She crossed her arms over her chest and furrowed her brows, trying to seem both concerned and confused. "What happened?"

Lucien took a small step toward her; Belle willed herself not to take a step back, knowing he would see that as an admission of her guilt. "She was murdered."

A pang of guilt twisted in the pit of her stomach like a knife, digging deeper with each millisecond that passed. "Oh my god," she managed, feigning shock and sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Lucien."

He nodded half-heartedly, his gaze falling from hers as he turned away and began pacing the floor. She wasn't sure whether he was anxious, or just trying to make her be. Maybe both. "I've been out all morning trying to track down the bastard who did it." He tossed her a seemingly pointed look; he was angry. "One of the guards found her this morning in her hotel. The assailant appeared to have tortured her a bit before they broke her neck." He paused and raked his fingers through his formerly neat hair.

"That's horrible," Belle said, trying to play it cool, innocent. Her heartbeat was stabilized, as was her tone. "Is there anything I can do to help? Did you have someone check for fingerprints, or check the surveillance cameras? Surely there's something there that can help you."

Lucien just shook his head. "I've already done that. We haven't found anything yet, but trust me, I will." He stopped just a few feet away from where she stood, looking her straight in the face, his dark eyes searching her pale ones for any sign of guilt, anything out of the ordinary. The look of complete focus reminded her of when they would hunt together, prowling the darkened streets of cities and the forests surrounding small villages alike. It was he who had taught her how to be a predator, how to sense fear. He could smell it; he could feel it in the air. That was one of the things that had drawn her to him all those years ago, and probably the only thing about him she feared. "I always do."

If you made an enemy of Lucien Castle, one thing was absolutely certain: you'd live to regret it. Until, of course, he decided to end you. She had seen it before. It was a mistake she couldn't afford to make.

Belle moved closer and reached out to place a hand on his arm. "Don't worry," she said calmly, her gaze locked on his. "I'm sure you'll bring whoever did this to justice. And I'm here if you need any help." She cracked a smile. "I'm one hell of a hunter, if you remember correctly."

His expression softened a little, his guard slowly dropping. "I do. As a matter of fact, how about you go get dressed, and you and I can go out and blow off a little steam?" He leant down to kiss her lips.

"Just like old times," she said just before their lips met.

Despite his presumably friendly façade, Belle decided to keep her guard up. There was no way in hell she was going to let him find out what she did, or even suspect that she was the culprit. She chuckled on the inside as she put her body flush against his: It wouldn't be too hard to keep him distracted.

He pulled back, and nodded in agreement, his lips turned up in a cocky smirk. "Just like old times."

About an hour later, the two of them were in the back of one of the Quarter's day-walker bars with the corpses of the innocent and all-too-willing human tourists they had lured to the bar – without using compulsion, of course. Belle had always found that compulsion took the joy out of hunting; she only used it to keep her victim from screaming. Nothing could kill the buzz of a good feed quite like having some preppy frat boy screaming in her ear the whole time.

She wiped away the blood from her mouth with her thumb before pushing the dead guy's body onto the floor, nudging it away from the booth with the pointed toe of her black boot. She turned to Lucien, who had a pretty and blonde – not to mention half-dead, twenty-something-year-old in his lap. He liked to play with his food. Impatiently, Belle leaned in and grabbed the girl's wrist, draining her dry in a matter of seconds, listening to the faint thudding of her heart before it stopped beating all together. She pulled the limp body off of him, letting it slip off of the torn, red vinyl seat and fall to the floor like the other, before she took the girl's place on Lucien's lap.

"Impatient little thing," Lucien mumbled, smirking. He darted his tongue out to lick the residual blood from his lips before pulling her closer, kissing her demandingly.

Suddenly, there was a distinct shift in the air of the bar – and not just the cold gust of wind that blew in as the door opened. She pulled away from Lucien and looked in the direction of the whispers that were rapidly making their way back to where she and Lucien sat in the corner. She saw him from the back – short sandy hair and a black leather jacket, and immediately realized that it was Klaus. "Fuck," she muttered, knowing that he had more than likely heard her. They hadn't seen one another or spoken since her outburst and near-death experience. She was still angry – furious, even, but she still missed him.

Klaus suddenly whipped around, his response no doubt triggered by her the sound of her voice, and met her gaze from across the crowded bar.

She turned away almost immediately and whispered, "Lucien, I swear to God if you invite him over, I'm going to lose my," before he cut her off.

"Nik!" he called across the room, extending the arm that wasn't wrapped around Belle's waist, and waving him over.

To her dismay, Klaus strode over to them, his head held high and his lips upturned in a cheeky, arrogant smirk. "Lucien, Belinda, what an unexpected surprise running into you here," he said.

Belle frowned, crawling off of Lucien's lap and retaking her seat. "You call it a surprise; I call it an invasion." She crossed her arms over her chest. "What are you doing here, Niklaus? Shouldn't you be playing house with Strawberry Shortcake?"

He shrugged. "Well, Aurora and I were out and about, and decided to stop by here for a drink. After all, it is _my_ city. I can damn well go wherever I please."

Belle opened her mouth to speak, but Lucien beat her to the punch.

"By all means, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the empty space beside himself. "It's been a while since you and I shared a drink." Belle's jaw tightened as she shot Lucien a pointed glare, not that he even took notice.

Klaus obliged, pushing the bodies away from their table with his dark, leather boots before taking his seat.

Aurora came waltzing in moments later, and, to make matters worse, Blade was perched on her hip. Belle's anger built up and boiled over by the time Aurora reached them. "Hello," she said, glancing at Klaus and Lucien before her gaze settled on Belle's. "Well, this is quite a quaint little establishment, isn't it?" She let out a high giggle as she took her seat, sandwiching Blade between Klaus and herself. "You know, this reminds me of when Tristan and I were in," she began just before Belle snapped.

"What the hell are you doing with _my_ son?" she spat, seething. Her gums ached as her fangs threatened to bear themselves in anger, ready to sink into that bitch's throat and tear out her vocal cords. She cut off Aurora before she could even get out a single syllable. "And what possessed you to bring him into a bar? He's two. Or was your tiny, pea-sized brain unable to process how inappropriate that is?"

"For your information, he's not just _your_ son; he's also Nik's, and Nik doesn't seem to have a problem with me holding Blade, so you have absolutely no reason to object to my doing so. And I happened to spot you and Lucien earlier when you ducked in here, so I thought Blade might want to come see you. Perhaps I was mistaken," Aurora replied, grinning with a blatant confidence that bordered on arrogance as she glanced down at the small boy, who sat with his tiny, dimpled hands gripping the edge of the table as he struggled to peer across at his mother. Aurora knew that as long as Blade was sitting by her side, Belle wouldn't touch her. Blade was one of Belle's only weaknesses, and Aurora took full advantage of that knowledge.

Belle let out a sigh, deciding then that this was not a fight she was going to win. Crazy as she was, Aurora was smart, cunning. And, in this case, her logic was solid. "Can I hold him?" She felt ridiculous asking that woman for permission to hold her own child, but she was trying to be civil in the hopes of prolonging not only her time with Blade, but also her time with Klaus. She reached out her arms over the table as Aurora picked up a particularly restless Blade and handed him over. She stroked his soft curls, brushing them out of his eyes before she settled him down in her lap.

Without really meaning to, she zoned out while Klaus, Lucien, and Aurora started talking. Her eyes looked around aimlessly as her mind wandered. She noticed a few traces of oil paint left on her palms and around her fingernails; she looked over at Klaus and saw that his hands, too, were marked with traces of paint. She wanted to crack a smile at the thought that she and Klaus, despite being apart, had started their days the same way. But she simply sat there with a blank expression, looking from one face to another without comprehending a single word out of their mouths.

That is, until she felt Blade tugging on her shirt like he was trying to get her attention. She realized then that they were all staring at her, awaiting her response to a question her hadn't even heard or known who'd asked it.

"Belle?" Lucien asked, gesturing over to Aurora, who sat patiently, waiting for her response. So, it was Aroura who had posed the question.

"Yeah," she said, prompting the redhead to repeat the question.

However, being a perpetual nuisance, Aurora took her response as an answer – a "yes", at that. "Fantastic," she said cheerfully, clasping her hands together. Her eagerness immediately put Belle on edge. "Well, I'm afraid we have to go. Belle, will next Tuesday work?"

Confused, but deciding to play along, Belle nodded. "Umm, sure, yeah. Next Tuesday," she said, having no clue as to what she had just agreed to do _next Tuesday_.

Aurora grinned. "Fabulous." She scooted out of the booth, turning to Klaus as she waited for him to follow suit.

He sat there for a moment, his eyes cast down like he was deep in thought. There was something about his momentary hesitance that ignited a spark of hope in Belle – hope that he still had feelings for her.

Klaus got to his feet and turned to meet Belle's gaze. Her heart skipped a beat. "You can come by and pick him up on Friday," he said. His voice was monotone, his expression matching his tone of voice. And, just like that, the ember was snuffed out. Her heart dropped.

Without a word, Belle lifted Blade into her arms, kissed his forehead, and handed him over to his father.

As the three of them walked away – Blade in Klaus's arms, Aurora and Klaus hand-in-hand, Belle was overcome by a dreadful thought, one that nearly stopped her entire world from spinning, one that made her heart try to tear itself in half. When she died, as Alexis had foreseen, every memory her son had of her would soon fade away. He would only know her face from old paintings and photographs. He would never know her voice, her laugh. Every second of her time as his mother would be erased from his memory. He would grow up to call Aurora _mother_. Aurora, who had stolen away the only man Belle had ever truly loved. Aurora, who had claimed Klaus's heart as her own before Belle had even been born. Aurora, who would inevitably become Klaus's wife, would get everything Belle had ever wanted. While her corpse rotted in the ground, or at the bottom of the Mississippi, or wherever her body would end up, she would be forced to watch from the Other Side as that woman lived the life that was supposed to be hers.


	18. Chapter 18

**A.N. – So, I've been in college for a month now, and I love it! Thank you all for your patience and support, so let's get on with the chapter. Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

Song: Within Temptation ft. Keith Caputo – _What Have You Done_

"I don't give a damn about any 'suspicions' you have, Audrey. You had no right to go attack her like that," Marcel boomed, clenching his cell phone tightly in his hand as he paced the same 10 feet of the gym he had been in for half an hour. He and Audrey were in a bit of a spat; apparently, Audrey had thought he was seeing Rebekah behind her back, which Belle knew that he hadn't. So earlier that morning, Audrey went over to the Compound trying to start a fight with the youngest Mikaelson. As expected, it ended with both Rebekah and Audrey trying to force blame down Marcel's throat.

Belle sat on one of the weight-lifting benches and watched him carefully as she blatantly listened in. She didn't particularly care about their dispute; they would work things out in no time. However, she hadn't heard from her Audrey since their fight at Christmas. As a matter of fact, it seemed that her entire family had been laying low since then, aside from Claudia. Although Belle hadn't spoken to her since their talk about her father, she had seen her mother strolling around the Quarter with her head held high at least half a dozen times.

She missed them, including Cal. Even though he wasn't her father, he was still her blood. She knew that she needed them in her life, now more than even, given that her lifespan now had a clock on it. She was a ticking time bomb, set to detonate in roughly a month. She was doing her best to not count the days, knowing that it would just make the time seem shorter. It seemed that knowing how precious her time was made it so much harder to actually make the most of it.

It had been months since she had been able to think clearly. Her time away from New Orleans had given her just that: the time and space to think about her life. She had needed to figure out what exactly she wanted, and now she knew. She wanted Klaus.

As pathetic and needy as it may have sounded, she knew that if she died before winning him back, she would spend the rest of eternity on the Other Side filled with regret. If anything, she was stubborn. She wouldn't give up until she got what she wanted. She wanted the life she had dreamt for herself nearly a thousand years before, and she'd be damned if she didn't get just that. It was what Barron, her first love, and Lilith's father, had promised her. He promised to keep her safe, to make her strong, and, above all, to give her the life and the family she deserved. Of course, he'd fled before he had made good on that promise, but the wounds he left her with had long ago healed, or so she thought. The pervading nightmares of her first ex continued to plague her at night, consuming her dreams.

As she slumped forward on the bench, exhausted and on the brink of falling asleep with her eyes open, she vaguely registered Marcel's voice as he ended his feud with her sister. "I'll see you later," he mumbled, before putting his phone down and heading over to Belle. "You need to talk to your sister."

Belle's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. "Hmm? What was that? I didn't hear what you said." Her voice was thick with exhaustion. Her tired, bloodshot eyes met his.

Marcel groaned, but repeated himself. "I said that you need to talk some sense into your sister. She thinks I'm cheating on her or something. She just ransacked Rebekah's room and nearly attacked her. I can't have the Mikaelsons on my ass. Okay?"

"Look, I haven't spoken to Audrey in weeks, Marcel, as I'm sure you already know. So, why would I start by trying to fight your battles for you? You screwed up, you fix it. You're a big boy, you can handle her." She hid the hurt and frustration in her eyes with mirth. She smirked and pinched his cheek like he was a little kid. He rolled his eyes, but said nothing. She chuckled and got to her feet, patting him on the shoulder before brushing past him on her way to the fighting ring, preparing to help out some of Marcel's new recruits. "We Campbells are complex creatures, Marcellus. We're stubborn, mysterious, paranoid," she started, before someone she couldn't see cut her off.

"Arrogant, jealous, have terrible taste in fashion, swear too much, drink too much, and are just downright mad," Aurora said as she stepped in through the entryway, striding toward them with the brazen look of self-entitlement that came with being a De Martel, a name whose meaning and weight had been lost centuries ago. She and Tristan both had it, that obnoxious swagger.

Aroura took off her black trench coat and unwound the gray knit scarf from around her neck, gingerly placing them on a chair before approaching Belle and Marcel. Under the coat she wore a black tank top, and red and black marble tights.

Belle was suddenly struck by an unfortunate realization. Was Aurora here to work out? She cringed and physically shuddered at the thought. "Sorry, dearie, but the Nordstrom sale is down the street." She couldn't help but smirk as she watched the redhead's face contort in annoyance. Belle put her hands on her hips and held her head high, boldly displaying her toned figure in a tights and sports bra. "What are you doing here, Aurora?" she demanded on a more serious note.

"What do you mean? You agreed to train me." Her well-groomed brows knit together in confusion.

"When the fuck did I do that?"

"The other day when Nik and I stopped by the bar with Blade. Lucien said you'd been working here with Marcel, helping him train new vampires. I thought you might be able to keep me in shape. While I am a skilled fighter, I'm afraid my combat skills are a bit rusty," she said, chuckling under her breath. Hearing that woman call Klaus "Nik" made her skin crawl. "Besides, I think you and I could benefit from some quality time together."

"You'd benefit from getting to kick the shit out of each other," Marcel whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Belle to hear; they connected eyes for a moment and they exchanged amused grins.

"You know what, Aurora," Belle said, plastering on a fake smile as she returned her gaze to Aurora's. "You are absolutely right. You and I are going to have to get over this little dispute we've been having lately, and what better way to do that than through a bit of training?"

Aurora smiled back, and Belle was certain that she was faking hers, too. "Fantastic."

They wrapped up their session around three hours later; the sun was starting to sink below the skyline. It had been more productive and, admittedly, more entertaining that Belle had anticipated. Aurora was stronger than she looked, and certainly more cunning. Belle was honestly intimidated. Of course, she would never show it.

She and Aurora chatted like old friends as they headed out to their cars, puffs of hot air escaping their lips with each phony laugh. "You'll be back later this week, right?" Belle asked, hoping Aurora would say that she wasn't. but knowing that she would undoubtedly return. Perhaps she could use their time together to garner information about her mysterious whereabouts. Belle had yet to spot Aroura sneaking around the Quarter, convening with strangers since the first time before Christmas; perhaps Aurora had decided to be more discrete with her meetings.

Aurora nodded. "Of course. Let me know when you're free. You have my number, right?"

"Yeah. I'll let you know." After exchanging forced smiled, the two women parted ways.

That night Belle had plans in which, for once, Lucien had no part. The city was hosting an art show for local artists to display their work. Belle had picked out a few of her own pieces, including the painting she had recently finished. Plus a few photographs she had blown up into large prints, and two sketches. Art had always been more of Klaus's thing, which is why she knew that he would be there, eager to share his talents in a veiled attempt to gain the approval of pretentious strangers. She wanted to get him alone so they could talk – reconcile, if she was lucky.

She sent over two of Lucien's lackeys to drop of her art before she arrived, paying them a bit too generously out of her own pocket. After getting ready, she got in her car and headed over to the gallery. It was on the outskirts on the French Quarter in a building that was decades older than anyone in attendance, well, aside from herself and Klaus.

On the drive over, she passed by the quaint apartment she and Max used to share back when she had first returned to the city. She'd never gotten up the courage to sell the place. There were too many memories of her brother there, some of the last she would ever have of him. She thought about him every day. And of Sabrina. And of Lilith. She often found herself thinking about the people she had lost as her time to join them grew closer.

"Won't be long now," she muttered to herself as she turned a corner, the apartment moving out of the view of her rearview mirror.

She pulled up to the gallery and handed her keys to the valet to park her car before hopping out and striding toward the door. The sound of soft jazz music filled the street every time the door opened, luring in tourists and locals alike.

As soon as Belle stepped into the room, she was hit by Klaus's scent. It wasn't overpowering, but it was so familiar that it didn't take much to find it among the others in the room. Her eyes scanned the room for him as she grabbed a complimentary glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He was probably holed up by the paintings, she decided, so she headed in that direction, keeping an eye out while she glanced at the other works.

Within the first ten seconds of looking through the display of paintings, she spotted one of Klaus's. It was new, one she had never seen before; it was a cityscape of New Orleans, but the sky was full of dark, looming clouds. She had always been one of the few people he'd ever given the privilege of seeing his work regularly, so it was especially strange to see the things he had painted without him personally showing her.

She circled around, the hem of her navy silk dress skimming the floor as she did so, and spotted the painting she'd chosen to display. Giving new life to Alexis's vision, Belle had painted what she knew would be the last thing she'd ever see: the night sky, illuminated by streetlights and a few stars peeking through. There were snowflakes falling and hints of red around the edges. It was dark and haunting, but beautiful – not unlike herself, not unlike her other works. Klaus wasn't the only brooding artist.

Her sketches were displayed across the room: the silhouette of a hooded figure done in charcoal, and a wolf done in graphite. Neither piece was, by any means, outstanding, but she heard a nothing but praise from the critics who gawked at them.

When she turned back to her painting, trying to find where her photos were displayed, Belle saw a familiar face standing in front of it, Klaus. He probably saw her signature in the bottom righthand corner and was drawn in. He'd always enjoyed her art, telling her to embrace her gift. However, when he looked at it now he seemed especially irritated.

"Why the long face?" she asked as she came to stand beside him, trying to start off on a more friendly, playful note.

Instead of turned to walk away, Klaus stood his ground, crossing his arms in front of him, standing tall. "This is a bit different from your usual style."

"What do you mean?"

"It just seems less...personal. You always seem to have such a connection to your work, but this just seems distant." His eyes stayed fixed on the painting, studying each and every inch.

She shrugged. "I think it's fairly personal, actually. Maybe it just seems that way because you haven't really been in my life for a while," she said, turning to face him. She was doing her best to ease into the conversation, not wanting to be too forward. She knew that he was still angry with her; she was still angry with him, too.

"Perhaps," he deadpanned, refusing to face her. His eyes were locked on the snowflakes and the stars like he was trying to find some message hidden in them. Maybe in a month he would know their meaning.

"Maybe," she began, darting out her tongue to wet her lips. Her mouth felt dry as the anticipation set in. "Maybe we could change that. I mean, we're going to be in each other's lives for Blade. We might as well try to be friendly, at least."

It was then that Klaus decided to end his staring contest with the painting and turn to face her. Their eyes locked as he spoke. "I have no desire to be in your life, Belinda." She could tell that he was lying; she could see it in his eyes. But it still struck her straight in the heart like one of the silver daggers he would use on his siblings. This was his way of putting her down.

Without another word, she turned away and made a beeline for the open bar before the tears could well up in her eyes. He'd made his intentions crystal clear time and time again, but she always refused to believe him, even when she knew he was lying to the both of them.

"Bourbon, neat," the bartender said as she slid a drink over to Belle.

"But I haven't even ordered yet," she protested, setting down her down empty champagne glass, and grazing the drink wearily with her fingers, feeling the cool condensation on her fingertips.

The bartender nodded to a man at the opposite end of the bar, sitting alone. He had tan skin, dark hair, and wore a suit, but Belle couldn't see his face; his back was to her as he looked out at the crowd. "He sent it over."

Something wasn't right. She had been sent drinks before, countless times. In fact, she rarely had to pay for her own. But those men had always sent her martinis or some obnoxiously colorful fruity drinks, which she never drank. How did he know to order her a Bourbon?

Abandoning the untouched glass, Belle got to her feet and strode over to the mystery man, resting one hand on the bar and leaning on it slightly. "Thanks for the drink," she said smoothly.

"No problem." The voice was familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. He had a smooth, slightly Southern drawl. Who the hell was he?

"You know, I usually don't accept drinks from strangers. Perhaps you'd like to change that." She stood up a bit taller, her gaze trained on the back of his head, waiting for him to turn around.

He scoffed, reaching over to grab his drink from the bar, a Scotch on the rocks. His sleeve came up a bit, revealing the start of a tattoo on his wrist, but she couldn't make it out. "Don't worry about that, sweetheart. We aren't strangers." It was then that he turned to face her, and she immediately realized who it was. "Hey there, Tinkerbell. Long time, no see."

She immediately backed away, eyes wide, jaw tightened. "Dominic." She felt someone rush up behind her and snap her neck. Everything went black.


	19. Chapter 19

**A.N. - Thanks for all the reviews for last chapter! Feedback is always appreciated. After all, I'm still learning all the ins and outs of writing, so I appreciate any help you guys have to offer. Please review and enjoy.**

* * *

*Lucien*

She didn't come home. Why wasn't she home already? The art show had surely ended hours ago. It was 5 o'clock in the morning and she was gone.

Lucien paced the floor in front of the front door feverishly, as he had for the past hour. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't think straight. All he could do was worry as his thoughts skipped from one irrational scenario to another. He raked his fingers through his already tousled chocolate locks as he called Belle's cell phone once again; he'd lost track of the number of times he's heard that obnoxious, automated voice message. _"I'm sorry, but the number you've tried to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message at the tone."_ In a fit of frustration, bordering on rage, he slammed the useless hunk of technology against the wall, shattering it to bits.

Ignoring the shards of glass that pierced his palm, Lucien turned and swung open the door, leaving spots of blood on the handle in his haste. He decided to pay an impromptu visit to the one place he knew he could find answers, maybe even find Belle herself, if he was lucky: The Compound.

He could feel his stomach start to digest itself as his driver got closer to their destination. What if she had gone back to him, to Klaus? That would explain why she hadn't been answering his calls. Perhaps he had been too eager in his decision to give her his heart. Aurora had warned him of Belle's undying love for Klaus. It was something, she'd said, that would make both of their roles even harder. According to Aurora, it was clear that Klaus still returned Belle's affections, even if he wasn't forthcoming with them. Not that it mattered to her; Aurora was in love with Lucien, or so she claimed. Lucien, however, had long ago fallen out of love with Aurora.

Sure, there had been a point in his life when he was madly, irrevocably in love with her. When he was human he would've done anything for Aurora. He would've given his very life for even a day of being hers, but that time had come and went for Lucien. After he became a vampire, and he, Tristan, and Aurora spent a hundred years running from Mikael, living as the Mikaelsons, something changed in him. He became a new man – again. The moment he stopping believing he was Klaus Mikaelson, he was reborn. He was no longer weak, no longer afraid, no longer bound by his old life. With this new lease on life, Lucien shed any affections he held for Aurora. Not all at once, of course. It wasn't until he met Belle that he his love for Aurora ceased to exist.

From the moment they met, he knew that they were destined to be together. He'd spent a dozen lifetimes waiting for her, searching for her, only to discover that Klaus had claimed her for his own. History had repeated itself. But this time he wouldn't just sit back and watch while Klaus stole his happiness. He would make Belle love him; he could see it in her eyes that she was falling. All he had to do was wait. Fate was on his side. Besides, Lucien had a plan. He'd spent centuries with Tristan and Aurora as they devised their perfect revenge fantasy, and soon they would bring that fantasy to life. Once everything was in place, they would act. Only, Lucien had a few tricks up his sleeve. Tristan and Aurora wouldn't see them coming.

When he arrived at the Abattoir, Lucien nearly ran to the front door, tempted to break it down. He banged on it with his fist until someone came to answer. A disheveled, agitated Elijah answered the door. "Ah, Lucien. Just the man I wanted to see." He grabbed Lucien by the shoulder and forcefully pulled him inside to the courtyard. "Where is he?" Elijah demanded, pinning the younger vampire against a wall by his throat, tilting Lucien's head up to look him straight in the face. "Where is my brother?"

Genuinely puzzled, Lucien's brow furrowed. "Klaus is missing? I came here looking for Belle."

The look of worry on Elijah's face intensified. He relinquished his hold on Lucien, taking a step back. "They're both missing?"

"It would appear so," Lucien grumbled, rubbing the sore spot where Elijah's fingers had dug into his neck.

"Are you kidding me?" Hayley boomed from upstairs, emerging from one of the second story hallways. She looked even worse than Elijah did. Her chestnut brown hair was tied up in a messy knot and she had heavy bags under her eyes like she hadn't slept all night. From what Lucien could tell, it seemed like no one in the Mikaelson household had. He could hear two distinct cries coming from upstairs: Blade and Hope. Even the children knew something was wrong. "Of course they're both gone. Fantastic," she hissed sarcastically. "I wish someone else would pitch in and help me with the two screaming toddlers! That'd be great."

Elijah rolled his eyes. "I'll be up in a moment, Hayley. Pardon me for leading this search," he called up to her. Lucien could tell that he was fighting the urge to start screaming. The noble Elijah.

Hayley turned and stomped away without another word.

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise?" he inquired.

Elijah shot an icy glare at him before turning and heading upstairs, ushering Lucien to follow him. "Please, do try to keep up if you are going to be of any help to us."

*Belle*

She ran down the dimly lit hallway as fast as her weak legs could carry her. She halted at a dead end – a metal door that was bolted shut. There was no way out. She was trapped with her faceless captor. "Let me go!" she screamed, banging on the door with her fists, ignoring the shooting pains each blow sent up her arms.

"Why would I do that, my love? I've got you right where I want you," a haunting voice boomed from behind her. It was familiar. And suddenly it hit her.

She whipped around and came face-to-face with the first man to ever break her heart. "Barron," she whispered, her voice broke as his name slipped through her shaking lips. It tasted like poison on her tongue.

He hadn't changed since the last time she'd seen him. His sandy locks fell just past his shoulders. Thin, crisp lines were carved into his face around his eyes and mouth. Barron's brooding, gray eyes stared straight into hers as his lips curled back over his pearlescent fangs. "Miss me?"

"Wake up!" a voice whispered angrily, pulling her back from her nightmare.

Belle groaned, struggling to open her aching eyelids. Her vision blurred, taking a few seconds to clear. Klaus was the first thing to come into focus. "Klaus? What are you doing here? Where are we?" The last thing she remembered was getting knocked out at the art show. Dominic, one of her many exes, was there. From the looks of things, he wasn't happy.

"It was a setup, the art show. I was attacked by some pompous ass and his lackeys. They broke my neck, and I woke up here." He tugged angrily at his chains to no avail, growing more agitated by the second. He'd been bested.

Her eyes scanned the cement cell they were in. Klaus was bound to the opposite wall by his wrists; so was she. There were no windows in the room, but there was a heavy metal door. It was bolted shut from the outside. Not to mention guarded; she saw a man and a woman standing outside through the small barred window in the door. There was no chance they could escape. Not yet, anyway.

"I think I know who that pompous ass is," she said. Her body slumped against the wall, drained. She could tell that someone had shot her up with copious amounts of vervain.

"Who? I'd like to tear off his head and use it as a footstool."

"Dominic."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"

"He's the man I was sort of dating when I first slept with you. You know, back in 1922," she said, not the least bit embarrassed. If anything, she was agitated.

"Fantastic. So, this lovesick bastard wants revenge on the both of us because you cheated on him."

"I'm pretty sure."

Their voices were laced with amusement. Neither was really worried about the situation; they knew that they would make it out. It was more of an inconvenience than anything else.

"Well, that's not all I want," Dominic said from the other side of the door. He pulled it open, a ring of keys dangling from his hand. He passed them to a brunette woman who had her back turned to them. He stood tall above them, his hand folded behind his back. The sleeves of his gray shirt were pushed up to his elbows, revealing half of the tattoo sleeve on his left arm. "While revenge is great and all, it doesn't really mean anything if I just torture you a little and let you go, does it? You'll just slaughter the lot of us the second you're free."

The brunette woman emerged from behind him, moving to stand by his side, shooting a dirty look Belle's way. It was Lola, Dominic's twin sister. She was half his size, but twice as vindictive. "Which is why we're going to kill you." Her voice was light and airy, almost childlike.

Klaus laughed at this. Dominic and Lola glared at him. "You can't be serious." He chuckled and shook his head, eyes fixed on the floor before meeting theirs. "You're a couple of fools if you think you can kill an Original." He sat up taller and tugged at his chains.

Not intimidated by Klaus's hubris, Dominic knelt down on one knee in front of Klaus and pulled a needle from his back pocket that was filled with a concoction of vervain and wolfsbane. He grabbed Klaus by the back of the head and jammed the needle into his neck, injecting the hybrid with the toxic mixture. "That's where you're wrong," he said, before getting to his feet. "Trust me when I say that neither of you will be getting out of this alive."

As Dominic turned to Belle, she lifted her head up to look him in the eyes, icy blue locking onto deep brown. "No, Dom," she said sternly, clenching her fists. "That's where _you're_ wrong." She grinned boldly, narrowing her eyes.

Lola flashed over to Belle and slammed her head against the concrete wall in a fit of anger. "Night, night, Tinkerbell," she hissed before Belle slipped back out of consciousness.

* * *

 **A.N. – Fear not! I'll get into the whole Belle/Dominic/Lola backstory next chapter.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A.N. – I hope you all are well** **Here's another chapter! Feel free to share any comments/questions/thoughts with me. Please review and enjoy.**

* * *

 _It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon in Manhattan. The year was 1922, and the city was electric._

 _Belle and Dominic had just arrived a few days prior, following the rumors of New York's vibrant night-life and surplus of bootlegged alcohol. Dominic was a young, lively vampire, eager to feed and reap the many rewards of his new life; Belle had turned him herself a few months earlier, along with his beloved twin sister, Lola, per his persistent request. She rarely turned anyone, especially the men with whom she involved herself, but she'd been lonely. Max was off with Tristan – God knew where. She didn't know when he'd be back, and she decided that she'd rather turn a few new friends than be alone._

 _To her dismay and frustration, Klaus was nowhere to be found; after New Orleans had nearly burnt to the ground for a second time just three years before, she hadn't been able to track him down. She'd left New Orleans a matter of months before the fire. However, there were rumors, whispers, of Klaus settling in New York for a bit. Without hesitation, she headed off to find him, taking her playthings along for the ride in case the rumors proved to be untrue._

 _Belle sat in front of her vanity, touching up her striking red lipstick in the mirror as she prepared to head out for the evening in search of her old friend._

 _Dominic was lying across the foot of the bed behind her, the linens draped across the lower half of his body. He watched her with this intense, lovelorn look, and smiled. "Why don't you join Lola and me tonight, huh? It'll be a riot."_

 _Getting to her feet, Belle headed over to the door and bent down the slip on her white kitten heels. "Maybe another night, Dom." She stood up straight and turned around to face him._

 _He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Tinkerbell. You'll love it. Lola found us a little speakeasy three blocks down. We could tear that place apart! It's been ages since we've done that."_

 _She scoffed. "We did just that last week, if you recall. You and Lola are free to do as you wish. Go out, have a few drinks, kill a few mobsters, whatever tickles your fancy," she said, smirking as strode over to the bed, taking his face in her hand, running her gloved index finger over his sharp jawline. "You and I can go out tomorrow night and paint the town red, alright? I promise."_

 _He smiled, his wide puppy eyes locked with hers. "I'll hold you to that promise," he said, grabbing her free arm and pulling her down to him. He tried to kiss her, but she pressed a finger to his lips, smirking wickedly. "Don't smudge my lipstick."_

 _With that, she turned away and sashayed out of the room, relishing the effect she knew it would have on him. He was entirely devoted to her; it was a shame she'd never feel the same. There was only one man she wanted, and she was on the hunt to find him._

 _She didn't mean to hurt Dominic this way, though; he was a kind man. He just wasn't for her. She hoped that one day he would realize the truth and move on. And, thanks to her, he now had all of eternity to do just that._

When Belle came to, she felt like she had been hit by a bus, or rather a series of busses. The vervain pumping through her veins was certainly doing its job. She regretted her decision to stop taking small doses every day. Maybe then she wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe then she wouldn't feel so weak and utterly powerless. She couldn't stand it, and from the enraged look on Klaus's face, it looked like he couldn't stand it either. Slumped against the wall, he stared down at the floor, mumbling to himself about the numerous ways he could dismember Dominic; she heard the words "disembowel" and "skinned alive" slip though his clenched teeth.

Once he noticed that she was awake, his eyes looked up from the concrete floor and met hers. She could tell from his expression that he was plotting something. "Are you happy with yourself right now? Are you proud of this mess you've created?" he growled, narrowing his eyes.

Belle scoffed. "I'm sorry, but how exactly is this my fault? It takes two to tango, dumbass. You're just as much at fault as I am."

"I had no idea you were seeing anyone! And now, because of your faults and indiscretions, I am being held captive here, utterly defenseless," Klaus snapped. His face contorted in anger and frustration. His eyes fell from hers as he opened his mouth to speak again. "I suppose you've always had a habit of deceiving the men in your life to fuel your own selfish desires." That one hit her hard, a sucker punch straight in her gut.

"That's what you think of me? That I'm some selfish whore who ruins people's lives and just does whatever the hell she wants? Consequences be damned," she said, not even attempting to mask the hurt in her voice.

"That's not what I meant," he replied. Somewhat defeated, Klaus let out a sigh and slumped back against the wall.

"Then what did you mean?" she snapped. Tears started welling up in her baby blue eyes and she didn't have the strength to hold them back. "You know me Nik, better than anyone else. You know that I never meant to hurt you." Her voice softened. "My leaving you had nothing to do with you. It was me. It was my fault."

"It's not you, it's me," Klaus muttered in a mocking tone, openly scoffing. "You're joking."

Belle rolled her eyes, cracking a smile as she brought a hand up to her eyes to wipe away the tears that started falling. "I'm serious. I was just, I don't know," she started, letting her eyes scan the room as her mind reeled. "I was afraid."

Klaus raised an eyebrow at this. "Afraid of me?"

"Afraid of my happiness, I guess. Forget it, I don't want to talk about this." She shook her head as if to shake out the unwanted thoughts.

"What else do we have to do right now? We're going to be trapped in this god-forsaken room for who knows how long. We might as well get this over with. Talk," Klaus demanded, looking her straight in the face. His interest was piqued, and he wouldn't let this go; she knew there was no point in fighting him. If there was one thing she'd learned in her time with him, it's that Niklaus Mikaelson always got his way.

So, she let out a long sigh of defeat and launched into it, into why she'd left him. She'd barely been able to admit it to herself. How in the hell was she supposed to say it to him? Her lips parted and suddenly it was like they became a separate part of her, like she'd lost all control over what came pouring out. The words just flowed effortlessly, like blood gushing out from an open wound. "I was utterly miserable for the first fifteen years of my human life. That is, until I found out about Lilith. And I was finally happy because I was so close to getting the life I'd always wanted: Someone to love me unconditionally, a family of my own, a new life."

She paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath before saying his name. "Barron promised all of this to me, insisted that I would have it, in fact. But he left me, and I had nothing for a while after that. I was all alone." A single tear slipped down her cheek as she looked up into Klaus's focused gaze. She felt weak and pathetic as she openly cried in front of him, but she didn't care. "Until Lilith was born, of course. Those eight years I had with her were the best of my human life. She was my whole world, and she was ripped away from me. Every ounce of happiness and joy and love I've ever known has left me sooner or later. I guess I just didn't want to wait around for it to happen again. I just wanted to be happy, Nik. Don't I deserve that? I know it was wrong of me to take away our son from you, and I'm so sorry. If I could take back what I did, I would do it in a heartbeat. But, the truth of the matter is that I can't. I have to live with what I've done. It absolutely kills me to know that I hurt you so deeply."

"You did hurt me, Belle. You broke my trust. You took my son away. I missed eleven months of his life – eleven months that I can never get back, because of you," he said. She could see tears filling his eyes; that broke her.

A sob tore through her lips followed by a waterfall of tears. "I know, I know," she insisted.

"No!" Klaus nearly yelled, his voice straining. "You don't know, Belinda. You broke my fucking heart. There have only been a few women I've trusted with that responsibility, and you failed me."

Anger started to rise and boil over in the back of her mind, seeping through into her words. "And is Aurora one of those women? I mean, that's why you got back with her the moment I left, right? Tell me, how did it take before you welcomed her back into your bed? I bet you didn't even wait for the sheets on my side to get cold."

"Three weeks," he said. "She showed up three weeks after you left." His jaw tightened. "And don't act like you didn't start fucking Lucien the very instant you returned to New Orleans."

She rolled her eyes. "Things with Lucien are complicated, okay?"

"And you don't think things with Aurora aren't?" he shot back. This certainly grabbed her attention. A glimmer of hope shone through, and she latched onto it immediately.

"Things are complicated?" Her brows furrowed.

He nodded, his anger subsiding. "Yes. I hadn't seen the woman in a millennium. Do you think I would be foolish enough to trust her so quickly?"

"So you still don't trust her?" Belle inquired, attempting to wade in slowly; she wanted to see how her chances were. From the look of things, she guessed that her odds were fairly good. The look in his eyes all but confirmed it.

"Do you trust Lucien?" He raised an eyebrow, looking her straight in the eyes.

She couldn't lie to him, and she didn't want to. "No, I don't. And I don't trust Aurora either, but you already knew that, I'm sure. "

He scoffed. "I did."

Belle could feel the tension between them diffuse. She was glad that they were on the same page; this tempted her to tell him about Alexis's premonition, but she decided against it. Some things were better kept as secrets, especially things like this. She would figure this out on her own.

"I saw the photos of Blade you displayed at the art show," he said, cracking a smile.

She couldn't help but smile back. "They're gorgeous, aren't they?"

He playfully rolled his eyes. "You've always been the biggest fan of your work," he commented. "But yes, they are quite beautiful. Though I might be a bit biased."

"What about the photo albums? Have you looked through those yet?"

"I have, many times." He nodded.

Her smile brightened. "Good. I just wanted to try and give you a taste of what you missed in his life. I know it's not the same as being there, but…" she trailed off, eyes falling to the floor as guilt set in again.

Klaus shook his head. "Let's not rehash that, shall we?"

Thankful, Belle nodded. "Of course." Was this his forgiveness?

"And, for the record, it was Aurora who cursed you. She thought she was helping, I suppose." He shook his head. "I took the fall because I felt guilty for letting it happen. I should have stopped her." He scoffed at himself and slumped back against the wall.

Suddenly, Belle found herself being particularly suspicious. Why would Klaus tell her that? Why was he being so forward with the truth, with his emotions? More importantly, why was she? Something wasn't right.

She heard Dominic's booming laughter coming from outside the door as he came into view, closing the door with a loud slam behind himself.

"Well, isn't this sweet? Two lovers making up, rekindling the embers from their burnt-out love affair. It's quite touching, really." His shaggy, black hair was pulled up in a man-bun, allowing Belle to still see his face as he peered down at Klaus. "I'm sure you're both wondering why you suddenly feel the desire to purge your deepest, darkest secrets. Hmm," he prompted, smirking at them like a mad king towering above his foolish, subjugated people. She saw a wild look in his eyes – he was utterly giddy with power.

"It may have crossed my mind," Belle replied coolly, trying to hide her anger.

"Well, I slipped you guys a little something while you were out. Nothing too bad, just a little truth-telling serum I procured from a witch. I was hoping you'd be divulging secrets about me, but this is so much better." He laughed maniacally, amused. They, on the other hand, were anything but. "You see, your chances of actually being together again are next to none, Tinkerbell." He reached down and grazed her jawline with his fingertips; she pulled away forcefully, tempted to bite him for good measure. He didn't seem the least bit offended, however. "So, say your goodbyes. It won't be long before you're gone. Perhaps I'll scatter your ashes together. Wouldn't that be sweet?" He turned to Klaus, who looked ready to strike.

"And how exactly are you planning to kill me? Many have tried, of course, but they have all failed. I haven't the slightest doubt that your fate will be the same. All who stand against me fall, one way or another. I suggest you give up now, and I give you my word that your death a quick one," Klaus said. In the face of his adversary he stood tall, unafraid. That was one of the many things Belle admired about Klaus; No matter what, he would never back down.

Dominic laughed and knelt so he and Klaus were nearly eye-to-eye. However, through the arrogant façade, Belle could see him for who he really was: A frightened little boy facing his alleged bully, convinced that he could win.

It angered her, the thought that this pathetic excuse for a man, and an even poorer excuse for a vampire, thought that he could kill the strongest, most invincible person she'd ever met. Her hands clenched into fists as blind rage slowly consumed her.

"That's a pretty speech. However, words don't scare me. You see, I have a plan. I have people – people who want to help me, people who want to see you dead. And what do you have, huh?" Dominic taunted. He grabbed Klaus by the jaw and tilted his head upward. Belle could see Klaus's eyes glow yellow as his wolf started to take over.

A sudden and demanding sense of power and urgency surged throughout her body like a furry of lightning bolts. She needed to escape. She needed to act. She looked across the room, Dominic's back turned to her, and exchanged a knowing look with Klaus before they retaliated.


	21. Chapter 21

**A.N. – Sorry to leave you guys hanging for a few weeks; life's been busy. Hopefully you will like this update. Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

Song: Sixx: A.M. – _We Will Not Go Quietly_

*Lucien*

"What do you mean you called them?" Lucien hissed at Aurora.

They were hiding out in one of the Mikaelsons spare rooms upstairs; it was one of the few places where they'd be safe from prying ears. A full-blown search party had commenced downstairs. The Compound was crawling with vampires and werewolves alike whom Elijah had enlisted in the search for Klaus and Belle – well, ones he had technically threatened. Elijah was in no mood for games, and neither was Lucien. He'd had a feeling that Aurora had orchestrated this little fiasco, without his permission of course. Never mind the fact that he was the brains of the operation. She and Tristan had a habit of going rouge; Lucien couldn't wait to be free from them. But, for now, he wasn't capable of executing his plan alone. He needed them. So, he reigned in his anger as best as he could, resisting the urge to snarl at the childish redheaded woman.

Aurora peered up at him through her doll-like lashes, smiling sweetly. "I did what I had to, my love. Trust me, I've just made our lives so much easier." Her eyes fell from his as she turned away and started pacing slowly around the room, absentmindedly running her fingers over the stack of ancient, dusty books piled up on one of the tables. "You're close to finishing the serum, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, but I don't see how having Niklaus and Belle kidnapped will help our cause, Aurora." Lucien suppressed the urge to groan, tugging anxiously at the cuffs of his shirt sleeve. "I mean, what do you suppose we'll gain from this? The Mikaelsons are bound find us out, if they haven't started already. Do you sincerely trust the other sires to keep their mouths shut? They will give them your name, Tristan's, as well as mine. We have to be more careful, 'Rora." In an attempt to show his feigned sincerity, he walked slowly over to Aurora, grabbing her gently by the waist and pulling her to him.

Her expression was still soft, but bordering on annoyed. "I understand where you're coming from, Lucien. I truly do, but Tristan and I have this covered. No one will ever know we had a hand in this."

A deep crease formed between Lucien's brows. "How can you be so sure?" His concern was entirely genuine. No matter what, he wouldn't let Aurora ruin this – not now, not when he was so close to getting what he'd wanted for 900 years. No one would stand in his way, not Dominic, not Lola, not Tristan, and certainly not Aurora.

"Just trust me, alright," Aurora said, her voice just above a whisper. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips and caressed his face in her hands. "I would never do anything to ruin our plans, not after all we've been through. The Mikaelsons will pay, as will anyone who tries to stop us." She smiled.

He managed to fake a grin, despite the chill her words sent up his spine. Belle was one of those people who would try to help the Mikaelsons, no doubt. And he knew that Aurora would not hesitate to kill her; in fact, she would take joy in doing so. No matter what, he needed to be two steps ahead of her and Tristan. He was too far in to give up now. He refused to lose her again.

*Belle*

She watched as Klaus's eyes turned a glowing, golden hue, veins pulsating under them, fangs peeking out from behind his close-lipped smirk. "I have the one thing that matters most: The ability to tear you apart in a matter of seconds. Perhaps I'll show you."

Despite the arrogant façade, Belle could smell the faint stench of Dominic's fear. He knew that Klaus could end him with a single, toxic bite. However, what he didn't know was that, with the proper motivation, Klaus could break his chains – as could Belle, that is, when her system wasn't loaded up with vervain. Spending most of their human lives being underestimated only made them go to further extremes to take down those who would dare hold them down. They were fighters. And now that the doors were unguarded, leaving Dominic cornered and vulnerable, they had the perfect chance to break free. They had to act quickly, and that's just what Belle aimed to do.

Lacking the strength to break the chains, Belle gritted her teeth and pulled one of her hands out of the iron cuff. The distraction of her slower, more painful escape would give Klaus the chance to break free. She let a muffled, high-pitched cry slip out from between her clenched teeth as the cuff dug into her flesh, slicing and peeling back the skin on her palm as she finally freed her hand.

Dominic whipped his head around, narrowing his eyes at her. A twisted smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke. "Now, Tinkerbell, do you really think you can get away from me that easily?"

"I wouldn't exactly call this easy," she grumbled, flexing the fingers of her slowly healing hand. The pain she felt paled in comparison to the fire that had ignited within her; she had to break free. She refused to stay a prisoner. To face death; she wasn't ready.

Before Dominic could take a single step in Belle's direction, Klaus tore the chains from the wall, launching himself at the young vampire with ferocity and pinning his back against the wall.

Belle gathered the strength to break her other chain. She shoved Klaus aside, ignoring the angry grunt he directed at her, and wrapped the chain around Dominic's throat, pressing forcefully against his skin so he couldn't get away.

"What are you doing? Kill the bastard and run!" Klaus growled.

"Getting answers. Watch the door, make sure no one's coming," she snapped.

"I will not," he began to protest before she cut him off.

"If you want to find out what kind of threat is posed against us, I suggest you shut the hell up and listen to me." She shot an icy glare in his direction before returning her attention to Dominic. He struggled and writhed under her hold, but she didn't let up; in fact, she pressed even harder. "What are you planning?"

He chuckled. "Why don't you ask your boyfriend?"

Her brows knit together. "What?" How the hell did Lucien tie into this? What had he done? Surely he was lying, just trying to get under her skin.

"You know who I'm talking about: rich guy, dark hair, pretentious, impeccable taste, has a grudge against the Mikaelsons."

Klaus scoffed. "I should have known Lucien was the mastermind of this operation." He glanced toward the open door, eager to bolt.

"He's not the only one who despises you and your pathetic excuse for a family. Soon the others will come, and you will fall, one by one." He smiled venomously before taking Belle off guard by pushing forcefully against her shoulders, sending her backwards into the opposite wall. She grunted as her head smacked the concrete, taking most of the impact. It nearly knocked her unconscious; her vision blurred and her head spun like she'd had too much to drink. Through the haze, she saw Klaus rip out Dominic's heart.

A cry cut through the ringing in her ears. Lola burst into the cell, trying to attack Klaus from behind. Belle tackled the petite brunette to the ground in the hallway, knocking the door off its hinges in the process.

"You will pay for your sins, Belinda. Do you hear me?! You will," Lola screamed; Belle cut her off by tearing out her heart.

She got to her feet and let the useless organ fall to the floor. "Let's get the hell out of here, shall we?"

A matter of minutes later, Klaus and Belle finally stepped outside into the daylight, having fought their way through a dozen buff, newbie vampires. It was exhilarating, fighting side-by-side with him once again. She turned to face him, smiling. Blood was spattered on his face, arms, and all over the white button-up shirt he was wearing – no doubt she was just as disheveled; there would be no saving her dress, not that she minded.

Time seemed to stop in that moment, as her eyes locked with his; she hadn't even realized she was staring. And he was staring back. Neither of them moved; neither spoke. Their exchange was utterly telepathic; she knew what he wanted to say, as did he, she was sure. His feelings for her were still very real. In that moment, fate tempted her, dangling the piece of fruit she'd been craving before her eyes. All she had to do was reach out and take it, consequences be damned. But she couldn't. And she knew that Klaus understood. Like he'd said, things were complicated, to say the least. Right now, she had to focus on the task at hand: cheating death, escaping her fate. Klaus would wait for her; she was sure of that now.

And, just like that, time started back up again. "Give my love to Blade. I need to sort things out with Lucien," Belle said, tentatively holding his gaze.

Klaus eyed her wearily. "You don't trust him, do you?" he asked.

She shook her head firmly. "I don't, like I said."

Belle flashed him a quick, reassuring grin before she turned her back to him and started walking away, not quite sure where they were or how she was going to get back to the city. She just knew that she had to get away before she gave in to temptation. And dammit, he was tempting.


	22. Chapter 22

**A.N. – I feel like I'm always apologizing for the sparseness of my updates. So instead of doing that for the hundredth time, I guess we'll just jump right in. Please review and enjoy :)**

* * *

Belle's eyes remained fixed straight ahead, unwavering from the patch of exposed bricks on the wall across from her. She listened intently as Klaus discussed their ordeal to the rest of the Mikaelsons, Hayley, Aurora, and Lucien; she had already explained everything to Lucien, aside from the bit about her heart-to-heart with Klaus. That would just between the two of them, something she found unexpectedly comforting.

"Well, I'm just glad you're okay," Aurora said from her seat beside Klaus. Belle's eyes flickered over to the redheaded woman, watching as her perfectly manicured fingers curled around his bicep, giving him a comforting squeeze. Jealousy reared its ugly head at the sight; she quickly looked away so as not to physically cringe or roll her eyes as Aurora gave Klaus one of the sappiest wide-eyed looks she'd ever seen. She struggled to hold back a grin at the thought of gouging out those obnoxious green orbs from her skull.

"Was there any mention of how exactly they planned to kill you? If there are others working with them, we need to be prepared." Elijah paced the floor, hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored trousers. He was in overly-protective-brother mode.

Belle couldn't help but scoff, drawing the attention of literally ever person in the room. She rolled her eyes, not in the mood to bark at them to "fuck off".

"Belinda, is there something you wish to contribute to the conversation?" Elijah asked, his voice dripping with annoyance.

Rebekah added, "You haven't said a single word in at least an hour. You must be dying to butt in."

"Well, if you insist," Belle replied facetiously. She turned to Elijah. "I know people say that there are no stupid questions, but _that_ is what I would call a stupid ass question. Obviously, if we knew how they intended to kill an Original, surely one of us would've told you."

Aurora huffed in annoyance. "Is the attitude really necessary? Some of us are actually trying to contribute to this discussion."

"Then why the hell are you here?" Belle shot back. "What can _you_ contribute?"

"Enough." Klaus sounded exhausted and utterly defeated; Belle suspected it stemmed from learning an unfortunate truth: He wasn't as invincible as he thought. After being kidnapped and chained up by those he viewed as inferior, he'd learned that these lesser beings could quite possibly possess a weapon that could be used against himself and against his family. She could see the frustration in his face as the knowledge slowly ate away at him.

Seconds later, before either woman would respond, Blade rushed into the room with his favorite bear clutched to his chest. Hope ran in after him, laughing. Belle was thankful that they were getting along well; they were probably the most functional siblings in their family. Hope climbed into the chair Hayley sat in, squeezing in beside her. Blade, on the other hand, plopped down on the carpet and clung to Belle's leg like a koala bear on a tree trunk. He looked up at her with his cheeky, gap-toothed grin. "Bored," he mumbled, pursing his lips and furrowing his brows.

Belle chuckled. "Join the club." She bent over and scooped him up in her arms, settling him carefully in her lap.

He started gnawing on his teddy's already mangled arm. Through the mop of sandy curls that had fallen in front of his eyes, Blade peered over at his father, smiling widely. Belle took a moment to look from Blade's face to his Klaus's, admiring the similarities in their features, as she often did, although it had been a while. While she honestly didn't see much of herself in her son, she was thankful for what he appeared to share with his father – aside from the personality, of course. That was something that, luckily, he hadn't gotten from either of his parents. His kind, easy-going demeaner was certainly a breath of fresh air for the family. She hoped that wouldn't change, that time and circumstance wouldn't warp his fragile, innocent mind and change him for the worst, as it had to herself, as it had to Klaus.

Suddenly, Klaus spoke, pulling Belle back from her thoughts. "If you're so 'bored', why don't you take this opportunity to leave? I'm sure Blade wouldn't mind a stroll around the Quarter."

"I guess." She shrugged, rolling her eyes while fighting back an amused smirk. "I'll leave you grown-ups here to sort this out. What about you, Hope? Do you want to come with us?" Belle turned to the young brunette who clung to her mother's arm, burying her face there.

"You know what, I think we both will," Hayley said abruptly.

Hope nodded. "Yeah."

After making sure the kids were all bundled up in their coats, Belle and Hayley headed out; Hayley seemed overly eager to escape the Compound's walls, even for just an hour or so. As the children walked between them, Belle decided to sate her curiosity. "So, how are the wedding plans going? Have you two set a date?"

Hayley shrugged. "Things are…tense, I guess. I don't know. Elijah's just had a lot to worry about lately, and now with this threat it's just going to get worse." Her eyes were locked straight ahead, and Belle could tell that she was trying not to cry or seem too upset. "It's fine though. Things will…things will be fine."

"I'm sure they will," Belle replied, hoping her reassurance was at least somewhat convincing. "You two are prefect for each other." That part was true, in her mind at least. Out of all the women Elijah had loved over the centuries - there were just a few, Hayley was different, and by far the most suited. At first sight, they didn't appear to have much in common, but Belle could tell that they balanced one another out well. She sincerely hoped Hayley wouldn't make the same foolish mistake she had a year ago; leaving was one of her biggest regrets.

They took a seat on a bench across from a playground, the same one Belle and Klaus had visited on Blade's birthday. Hayley and Belle made friendly small talk while the children played over on the swings – Blade was attempting to push Hope on the swing, and failing miserably. Hayley laughed under her breath and went to help them out, leaving Belle alone.

Not five seconds later, someone came to sit beside her; she looked over to find Ansel, Klaus's father, filling the empty seat.

"What are you doing here? Did my fath, did _Calhoun_ send you to speak to me since he's too much of a coward to do it himself?"

"I'm here at my own accord, as a matter of fact," he replied smoothly, turning his gaze away from his grandchildren to meet her eyes. "I came to speak with you about Klaus."

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to expect. "What about him?"

"Actually, it's more so about the two of you." His eyes flickered away to the trees for a moment as he ran a hand over his graying stubble, trying to collect his thoughts. "I want you to stay away from him."

"Excuse me?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. She'd never had much to do with Ansel, but from what she understood, he was fairly hands-off when it came to his son – granted, his son was a thousand years old, and a fully-grown man. Why the sudden change of heart? She couldn't help but wonder if, perhaps, Klaus had a hand in this.

"I know it's not my place to tell either of you what to do," he started.

"You're absolutely right, Ansel. It isn't your place," she interjected venomously.

"Be that as it may, I still believe I have a say in what I feel – what I know, is right for my son. And from what I've seen, you aren't. You lie, you deceive, you're temperamental, not to mention selfish. If it were up to me, you'd never see him again. However, that is not in my power."

"Then why are you saying a damned thing? If it's not your place to say so, and you know that you have no authority over either of us, why are you even trying?" Her jaw clenched as she trying to control herself.

"Because I care about my son, and my grandson. Despite the supposed separation, I can still clearly see the hold you have on him. I think it would be in everyone's best interest if you just left well enough alone. Give him the chance to heal, to move forward with his life." She could see the desperation on his face, hear the pleading in his voice. After being absent for a millennium, he was trying to make up for lost time.

She knew that he meant well, that he was simply trying to do the right thing, but she didn't care.

"You should leave, now, before I lose what little patience I have left."

To her pleasure and surprise, he didn't press any further. He'd said his piece. As he got to his feet and began to walk away, hands in the pockets of his jean jacket, he stopped and turned to face her one last time. "Your father wanted me to tell you that he wants to meet with you. He'll tell you anything and everything you wish to know about your birth father." He pulled a note from his pocket and set it on the bench beside her. She hesitantly took it in her hands, skimming over its contents.

 _The lobby of the Palace Royale Hotel, tomorrow at midnight. I sincerely hope you'll meet with me. I'd love to see you, my Little Bear._

When she looked up again, Ansel was gone. Hayley headed back over, smiling to herself; Belle assumed she hadn't seen her talking to Ansel.

"Those two are such a handful," Hayley said as she sat back down.

"They really are," Belle agreed, forcing a smile as she tried to push her conversation with Ansel to the back of her thoughts. She discretely stuffed the note into her pocket, deciding that she would take Cal up on his offer.


	23. Chapter 23

**A.N. – Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! I wish I could've written something with a little more holiday spirit for this chapter. Oh well! Have a great holiday. Please review and enjoy :)**

* * *

It was half past nine o'clock when Belle pulled up to the Palace Royal to meet with Cal. She was slightly more anxious than she thought she'd be. After centuries of silence, Cal was going to tell her about her father – her _real_ father. While, genetically speaking, Cal was nothing more than her uncle, a small, naive part of herself still called him _father._ Then again, fathers aren't supposed to lie to and deceive their children, especially ones who grew up idolizing them.

The wind whipped at the edges of her coat, practically pushing her towards the front door as she stood looking in, pondering her next move. Perhaps if the universe was on her side, things wouldn't go too badly. She took a deep breath and stepped into the warm embrace of the hotel lobby, nodding politely at the well-dressed doorman.

Cal was seated at the bar, nursing an almost-empty glass of whiskey as he stared at his watch.

"You're late," he grumbled, glancing back as she approached. "Have a seat." He patted the stool to his right.

"You didn't specify a time in your note. So, for all we know, I could be right on time," she shot back, holding back a smirk.

The bartender set another drink in front of Cal and turned to meet Belle's gaze. "Anything for you, miss?"

"No thank you." She shook her head. Once the bartender turned his attention to the tipsy group of tourists at the other end of the bar, Belle turned to Cal, clearing her throat to get his attention. He seemed to be drifting, floating somewhere between sober and tipsy. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" She pulled the now empty glass from his grasp and scooted the full one out of his reach; he shot her a dirty look. She rolled her eyes. "I'd prefer you to be at least mostly sober for this discussion."

He scoffed. "I haven't so much as uttered his name without a good, stiff drink in the past nine centuries."

"Maybe if you talk about him, it'll get easier. Let's try that."

"Eager, aren't we?" Cal reached out for hos drink again, but Belle moved it even farther away.

"If you had to wait over nine hundred and fifty years to hear about your father, you'd be eager, too. Now talk."

He was quiet for a while, staring up at the ceiling, seemingly analyzing each miniscule detail in the tiles.

Laughter echoed in from the doorway: A young father hoisted his little girl up onto his shoulders as they entered the building, smiling and cackling like they didn't have a care in the world. Belle watched them with a hint of envy, until Cal finally spoke up.

"I think it would be easier to show you your father, rather than tell you about him."

She arched her eyebrows at him, pondering his proposal. Perhaps it would be better to see the past. Apprehensively, she nodded, letting out a deep breath. "Okay."

He carefully took his wrinkled, calloused hand and placed over hers, giving her a comforting squeeze as he shut his eyes and let his memories wash over them.

Her eyes fluttered shut and the images started flickering on the backs of her eyelids, the voices ringing in her ears. It took a few seconds for everything to become clear. She heard two boys laughing before she saw them. A taller boy chased the smaller one through the trees, jumping over fallen branches with ease. "Slow down, Cal!" he called.

"Then you'll catch me, Brant," the other boy, Cal, replied. He couldn't have been more than six years old, still graced with dimpled hands and the glow of innocence. It was so strange, seeing him like this. Before time wore him down. Before life bent him and broke him into the man who sat beside her. She could scarcely remember a time when she was like that.

The other boy, Brant, Belle's father, was around ten. He stopped, brushing his chocolate curls out of his black eyes – Blade's eyes, Lilith's eyes. He called out to his brother, "Cal, be careful! Stay away from the river."

Cal slowed his speed to a brisk walk and halted, mere inches from the water's edge, peering across.

Brant came to stand behind him and pressed a finger to his lips. He put his hand on his brother's shoulder, kneeling to whisper in his ear. "Look over there." He pointed across the water to a doe and her fawn. They sipped the cool water together, unaware of the boys hiding in the brush across from them. "Beautiful."

The doe's head shot up abruptly, sensing a danger the boys had yet to notice: A hunter. Seconds later, before the deer could flee, an arrow shot out from the trees and pierced the doe's chest. Brant covered Cal's mouth with his hand before he could scream. "It's alright," he whispered. "It's just father."

A silent tear slipped down Cal's cheek as he watched the doe take her final breath, her fear-stricken fawn by her side, wide-eyed.

A tall, muscular man with tanned skin and dark hair emerged from the trees, coming to stand by the boys – their father, Belle's grandfather. He'd died years before her birth. Without a word, he handed the bow and a second arrow to Cal.

"Father, he is too young. Let me," Brant objected, reaching over to pry the weapon from his brother's small hands.

"No." His expression matched the gruffness of his voice. "Calhoun is old enough now. He needs to learn how to be a man, and this," he paused, jerking Cal's head to the side to look straight up and him, smearing the tears with the palm of his hand. "This is not how men behave. Now, stop crying and kill it. Quickly, before it flees."

"But, but father, I do not want," Cal began in a small, meek voice. Another tear slipped down his dirt-stained cheek.

"I do not care what you _want_ , boy. Do as you are told, or you will be punished." He released his hold on Cal, taking a step back.

In his small, shaking hands, Cal pulled back the arrow, aiming it at the small, frightened fawn. It stared straight at him, unable to move, paralyzed and utterly defenseless. He squeezed his eyes shut before he let the arrow fly free, and began sobbing again when the animal let out one final, defeated cry.

The scene suddenly shifted; a new memory unveiled itself to her.

Cal was older now, a grown man; he looked just as he had in Belle's earliest memories. He strode through what appeared to be the aftermath of a gruesome battle, a wooden shield in one hand and a bloodied sword in the other.

"Brother," he called, stepping over a discarded enemy corpse. He was alone, aside from the dead. "Brant," he called out, frantic now. "Brother?!" His voice reverberated off the trees, scaring away a flock of black birds.

"Brother?" a small voice replied. Brant. He lay on a hillside nearby, bloody and broken.

Cal rushed to his aid, utterly horrified at the sight. "You are going to be alright," he said as he tore off a piece of cloth from his own shirt to try to stop the bleeding on Brant's chest wound.

Brant scoffed, smiling with his discolored, bloody teeth. "You know, little brother, that is the first time you have ever lied to me." He coughed violently, blood sputtering from his pale, cracked lips.

"I, I will help you. I will save you, brother. I promise." Tears streaked the blood and dirt on Cal's face.

"You know you cannot help me now, Cal. I am already lost." With what little strength he could summon, Brant reached up and grasped Cal by the arm. "Listen to me, there is something you must do for me, for my child," he said, his voice a broken whisper.

Cal nodded firmly, nearly blinded by tears. "Anything, brother."

"I, I want you to raise my son, be a better father to him than our father was to us."

"Wh-what? Raise your son? I do not understand. How?"

"Wed Claudia, and raise him as your own. Can you do that for me? I do not want my child to grow up without a father, and I know you will love him just as I do." He smiled, a drop of blood slipping out from his parted lips. "You can teach him to fight, teach him to be strong. This, my dearest brother, is what I ask of you."

Eyes locked with his brother's, Cal nodded. "Of course, I will."

Brant smiled. "Thank you," he wheezed. He took in one final, ragged breath, and shut his eyes.

Suddenly, Belle was back in the hotel. She hadn't realized she was crying. Cal was crying, too. His gaze left hers as silent tears fell from his dark eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to the punch.

"I, I'm so sorry"

"Sorry? For what?"

She leaned forward and wrapped her delicate arms around his shoulders. He hugged her back, baffled and taken off guard. Neither had anticipated the evening going this way. "For everything." She rested her cheek on his shoulder, opening her eyes and blinking away the tears. A wave of clarity washed over her, allowing her to finally let go of the anger she'd been clinging to for the past month, and of the grudge she'd held against him since the night he shunned her from their home. With a heavy sigh, she released it all to the universe. "I forgive you," she whispered.


	24. Chapter 24

**A.N. – Classes start again next week :/ On the bright side, I'm taking my first creative writing class! Sorry if this chapter is a little boring; next chapter will be much more eventful (no spoilers!). Follow me on twitter at HaylijahIsLife for TO/TVD related things and a few pieces of my life. Without further ado, let's get into it. Please review and enjoy :)**

* * *

Song: The Neighbourhood - _Prey_

Once again, Belle was dragged into another endless discussion about the current state of things in the French Quarter. The latest news Lucien brought to the table regarded a looming war between the three remaining sire lines: Klaus's, Rebekah's, and Elijah's. Apparently, each line sought to wipe out the two others through one move: Killing the Original who sired the line. They were all understandably skeptical, namely Klaus, when Lucien divulged this knowledge; the timing was suspicious.

Why wouldn't he have said this earlier? Surely, he'd known about this.

Belle was partly convinced that he had made it up. She was tempted to voice her opinion, but decided against it. She couldn't tell whether it was intuition or paranoia that led her to the conclusion that Lucien wasn't to be trusted. If her suspicions were wrong, if Dominic had lied, and Lucien was truly trying to help the Mikaleson's, she would be losing a valuable ally and friend.

Dozens of possible explanations ran through her head as she stared blankly forward, biting her thumbnail; she winced when she had bitten down to the skin and drew a single drop of blood.

What if Aurora was the ringleader and Lucien was being used? What if he was innocent and Tristan and Aurora were attempting to frame him? She sought desperately for an answer, some pseudo truth that would explain everything and wouldn't mean that she'd been sleeping with the enemy.

Logic told her to just confront Lucien about her suspicions and clear the air, perhaps slip him a truth-telling serum to make sure he was being honest. However, her heart told her to ignore it all, that she was being irrational. Maybe she'd just developed Klaus's talent for jumping to conclusions; it wouldn't be the first of his traits she'd unintentionally taken on.

"If the other sires learn of this alleged weapon, I'm afraid we'll all be in danger," Lucien said gravely, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, hands folded under his chin, dark eyes scanning their faces for a reaction.

"And why should we believe you?" Klaus narrowed his eyes. This caught Belle's attention immediately. This was a risky move, but she was interested to watch how it played out. Perhaps it would help her in her own investigation of her "boyfriend".

Smoothly, Lucien scoffed and straightened up in his seat. "Must you turn so quickly to paranoia, Nik?"

"I believe my apprehension to blindly trust every word out of your mouth is perfectly valid. Especially since my life is on the line."

"All of our lives are at stake, actually," Elijah interjected, getting to his feet before starting to pace the floor, shooting a glare in Lucien's direction every few steps. "To that extent, given our delicate circumstances, I believe that Niklaus's skepticism is valid."

Belle resisted the urge to smirk as Klaus rolled his eyes at the sound of his real name.

"I can hardly believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Klaus," Rebekah said. "How do we know you aren't working with the very people who want us dead?"

Marcel nodded in agreement from his position in the doorway, arms folded over his chest as he listened in. Belle hadn't seen him around much, outside of the gym. She wondered if he was just spending more time with Audrey.

The room fell completely silent as everyone watched Lucien intently, waiting for his reply; Belle's eyes, however, were fixed on her shoes as she anxiously waited for his to say something, wondering if she was in the wrong, wondering if he could be trusted.

Lucien took a moment to collect his thoughts, and coolly responded, "You have no reason to trust me." He paused and got to his feet, turning to look each one of them in the eye. "Not that I've given any of you a reason to question where my loyalties lie." This time, he turned to look straight at Klaus. "You are my sire. Regardless of what you believe about my intentions, I will always be on your side. I will do whatever is best for you, for all of you."

"Well, if that's the case then whose side are you on?" Rebekah shot at Belle, probably irritated by her lack of participation in this discussion. "Your sire's or all of ours?" She shot a pointed glare at her as Belle turned her head to meet her gaze.

"Well, considering I don't know who my Original sire is, do I really have a choice?" she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. As if any of them had any imaginable reason to distrust her; Marcel would surely betray the family before she ever would, yet his loyalty wasn't being called into question.

Out of spite, she wanted to press Rebekah's unnecessary question further.

Klaus, somewhat sadistically, raised an eyebrow at Lucien. "Really? Surely you would have told her by now, given the current status of your relationship." He slyly sat back in his chair, his back now flush against it, appearing all too confident – cocky, even. What did he mean?

Warily, she turned to Lucien. Her heart sank. Was this going to give her yet another reason not to trust him? What was he hiding? "What's he talking about?" she asked.

Once again, everyone was fixated on Lucien, only this time he was visibly cracking under the pressure. He refused to look at Belle, choosing instead to stare at the carpet. "That's none of your concern." His voice was low, gruff, and perhaps even a little angry. His head slowly lifted as his eyes met Klaus's, narrowed dangerously, like a threat.

"Actually, when it comes to my sires it is my concern."

Belle stared in disbelief at Lucien before turning to Klaus. "Wait, so _you_ are my Original sire?"

Klaus smirked, splaying his arms proudly. "In the flesh. Congratulations, you're on the best side."

Suddenly, everything snapped into focus. "You turned her." She could hardly get the words out. After nine centuries of pure hatred for the woman who gave her new life, the one who murdered her beloved Lilith, Belle had wondered who to blame for Charlotte's wretched existence. And now she knew. "You turned Charlotte."

At last, he turned to face her. Lucien looked genuinely worried now, afraid even. He knew that he was in danger of losing her. "Belle, before you say anything else, just let me explain," he pleaded. She could practically smell his desperation; he also reeked of guilt.

Just as she was about to snap at him, her phone buzzed from its place beside her thigh. She glanced down at it before getting to her feet, stuffing the phone into her back pocket, and moving to leave.

"Where are you going?" Klaus demanded. She didn't have to look to him to know that the arrogant grin he'd worn before was now gone. He was growing irritated. "We're devising a plan, a plan which requires your help."

"You can figure it out without me," she snapped, pushing past Marcel as she left the room, striding as quickly as possible for the front door. In a sudden outburst of rage, she shoved her fist through a wall as she passed it, too occupied to register the pain.

Kol, amused, walked past her into the sitting room to join the discussion. "What the hell is her problem?" She didn't bother with a response.

By the time she reached her car, she was shaking with anger. She turned on the car, cranked up the radio to a deafening volume, and headed out to the country, using all of her willpower to avoid thinking about what had just happened with Lucien. She would deal with it later.

Instead, she focused on the task at hand. She was meeting with a builder at her old house, the one she'd discovered on the city's outskirts over a hundred years before – her secret garden, the one Sabrina burned to the ground.

She'd only recently decided to have it rebuilt, knowing that, in her absence, Blade would need a place to escape from the madness of the Quarter for a while, as she had. Klaus could use it, too. She began crying as she thought about him standing out on the front porch painting while Blade climbed in the trees on a warm spring afternoon. This would be her gift to them from beyond the grave. This way, they would always have a piece of her.

The thought of leaving them tore her heart in two. As she pulled up to the scorched, blackened remains, she broke down, realizing that this was exactly what she would do to everyone she had to leave behind; she wasn't ready. There was so much left she had to do. She realized in that moment that there was no point in trying to escape her fate. Alexis's vision was absolute. She had to stop focusing on cheating death and start focusing on the people she would inevitably be leaving behind.


End file.
